


there's a line that we'll cross (and there's no return)

by hella_fandoms



Series: here we stand on opposing sides [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Alek is Having A Bad Day, Alek is a smartass both in person and in his head, Alek rates this hotel 0/5 stars, F/F, F/M, I swear I'll get all these italics things down at some point, Local Trash Trio Goes To War: More At Seven, M/M, Revan does not have the patience for politics which is why she has Meetra, alek is far far too tired for this but why the hell not, and Meetra just wants to not deal with any of this but it doesn't seem like she has a choice, and a hundred percent down to fight someone behind a dumpster at denny's at midnight, dorven is always plotting Mayhem and Chaos, drinking games are fun so long as you don't make teenage alcoholics, lots of talk of crashing shuttles and huttball, meetra is the Voice of Reason TM, politicking and meetra's idiot family tend to go together in bad ways, revan is a small angry gremlin with swords, revan is tiny and feral, these idiots need adult supervision but refuse to accept that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella_fandoms/pseuds/hella_fandoms
Summary: Revan has never been one to sit aside and let things happen, she just doesn't know how. Fighting is in her blood, protecting others is what she chooses to do. The Jedi Council has stood in her way for too long now, and she's not about to let that continue.Alek wants to make sure another massacre like Quelii doesn't happen again, and he'll do whatever it takes to ensure the Mandalorians don't get the chance to continue their campaign of blood. He's not about to let the Council tell him otherwise.Meetra just wants to make sure her friends stay safe and if that means following them to war, so be it. She'll pay the cost in blood if it means the ones she loves are kept safe. She's not about to let anyone stop her now.Three lives, intertwined since they were children, standing together as a united front... until they're not.The story of the Mandalorian Wars and how it shattered the galaxy.
Relationships: Alek | Darth Malak/Revan
Series: here we stand on opposing sides [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158098
Comments: 9
Kudos: 4





	1. Time to Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> "There's a point where it tips,  
> there's a point where it breaks,  
> there's a point where it bends,  
> and a point we just can't take  
> anymore."
> 
> -Time to Say Goodbye, Jeff Williams ft Casey Lee Williams

“Buckle up and keep your fucking heads down, ladies and gentlebeings, because this ride is about to get bumpy!”

Lieutenant Kimmy Peatris, newly promoted up from the ranks of the shuttle pilots of the Republic Navy, grinned as she slammed the control to seal the hatches and began her launch sequence. She adjusted her helmet over her neatly cropped sandy blonde hair as she ran through her list. Weapons and shields at full power, check. Engines hot and her special mods ready, check. Comms on the appropriate channels so she didn’t hear groundpounder chatter, check. Everyone aboard that needed to be aboard, check. Ready for action.

_“All dropships, go go go!”_

With a smirk, she launched her ship and began the deadly dance of chance and skill. Slip past those two basilisks, take out that Mandie fighter with a perfectly-timed shot, slid along the hull of the cap ship while taking out a couple turrets along the way, and then hit atmo.

She skipped along the upper atmospheric layers for a brief moment before cutting her engines, letting the ship drop through gravitational pull, reactivating them just before the g-forces would have been impossible to overcome, and then dancing all over again past enemy fighters. She loved every minute of it.

_“Dropship Alpha-Six, this is Gold Leader. You’ve got an enemy dropship trying to race you, on your six!”_

Kimmy laughed, “He can try, Gold Leader. You go worry about the fight up there, I got this!”

She pointed the nose straight down and gunned it, racing past the Mandie dropship with ease, strafing it as she went and taking out an engine.

_“Lancer Leader to Alpha-Six, you looking for an actual Navy job? Because that was some damn fine flying.”_

“Why, you proposing something, Captain?”

He snorted, the sound filtering oddly over the comms, _“I will have you know I’m happily married.”_

“Really? I ain’t ever met her. She nice?”

_“Lot nicer than you, Alpha-Six.”_

“Boo. Nice girls are no fun.”

There was laughter over the channel before a new voice cut in.

 _“Cut the chatter, pilots. There’s a whole lot of bad to blow out of the sky. If I could, for example, draw your attention to the squadron attempting to put a hole in my godsdamned bridge!”_ General Meetra Surik snapped, her Chandrilan accent harsh.

_“Copy, General. Lancers, make them scarce.”_

Kimmy grinned and opened the intraship channel, “Everyone alright back there? Anyone need a puke bag?”

_“I dunno, the baby Jedi might. Rest of us are fine.”_

There was a protest before Kimmy cut the channel again, probably from said baby Jedi. One of the junior Revanchists, all eagerness and determination with no seasoning. At least she didn’t have to deal with that, her brother was a fully grown Jedi, a senior advisor to Revan himself, truth be told.

“Let’s dust some bastards,” she murmured to herself, another grin creeping across her features as she pinpointed her drop zone and gunned it once more.

**One year earlier…**

The news was droning on and on about the latest Mandalorian pushes towards Taris. They called analyst after analyst who all basically said the same thing: the Republic had to get it together or they would be pushed back beyond Taris, possibly to a point of no return. Admiral Veltraa seemed to be holding the line for now, but that was only because the Republic was diverting a frankly staggering amount of ships to holding the cordon, primarily because Taris had money and the worlds that were now falling to the Mandos didn’t.

That was Alek’s view of it, anyway, and he was sticking to it.

“You lot seen the latest bulletins from the front?” he called out to the others in the apartment.

Kaeden Peatris scoffed, running a hand through sandy blonde hair as he shuffled through what had to be a fuckton of datapads that were spread across the small kitchen table. “Yeah, I’ve seen them. Who had the bright idea to send Veltraa that many ships, anyway?”

“Probably Dodonna,” Meetra Surik rolled her hazel eyes, glaring at her reflection in a mirror as she attempted to tame her own dark curly halo of hair. She’s been sitting there for three hours now, they’d had to send someone for hairspray because Meetra refused to leave until she could manage her hair.

Dorven Skywalker leaned back in his seat on the couch next to Alek and shrugged. “Eh, let them. They’ll either learn fast or die trying. If the Mandies do manage to take Taris, we’ll be there to give them hell.”

“If the Council lets us,” Alek muttered, “You know how they’ve been.”

“No need to remind me,” Dorven chuckled lightly, “I’ve been hearing all about it from Master Vima.”

“What side of it is she on?” Meetra asked.

“Well, she thinks the Mandalorians are an important issue… but she also thinks that this random Sith shit they keep going on about is important as well, so she’s on the edge.”

“They do love to go on about Sith shit.”

The door slid open and a bag was hurled at Meetra’s head. She caught it with the Force and muttered her thanks as she grabbed the hairspray and started arranging her hair.

“This is why I just braid mine,” the newcomer grumbled, “You’re lucky I like you, Em.”

“Please, I’m your favorite.”

“Pretty sure Alek is the favorite,” Dorven chimed in with a smirk.

The woman blinked at him before laughing, “Yeah, like I’ve never heard that before. I can’t help it that he has very nice hair and a nicer ass.”

“See, someone likes my ass!” Alek crowed, lifting a hand in the air in triumph.

“Revan, I will have you know plenty of people like my ass too!” Dorven protested.

Revan shook her head, a few strands tugging loose from her tightly pinned braids, green eyes narrowing in amusement. “Your latest trip to the Galactic Market district doesn’t count, Dorv. You know that.”

“Boo, you’re no fun!”

Kaeden stifled a sigh, “You two are children.”

“I’m older than you,” Dorven retorted, “Revan is the child.”

“I’m twenty-two, _mir’sheb_.”

“And I’m twenty-six. Child.”

She flicked a hand out and he was thrown off the couch.

“No fair!”

Alek laughed, “You gotta learn to quit while you’re ahead. Anyway, why exactly are we getting all fancied up, Meetra?”

She’d all but forced him and Dorven into their nicest sets of robes earlier, which for Alek meant robes he hadn’t worn since he was Knighted and for Dorven… well, for Dorven it meant his only clean set. The man couldn’t do his own laundry to save his life.

“You want to convince the Council?” she asked, applying the hairspray liberally. “You need the support of the politicians who they cozy up to. So, we’re going to go mingle at an Admiralty function as guests of my aunt Forn. She’s all for Jedi in the war, so we’ll probably be chatted up.”

“A party,” Revan said flatly, “I don’t go to parties.”

“Probably for the best,” Meetra noted bluntly, “You’re not exactly the most personable. I’m bringing Alek and Dorven along. They can help me. You and Kaeden can plan how we’ll approach the Council at the next meeting.”

“Look at our Em,” Dorven grinned, “Playing to our strengths and all.”

“That’s why I’m the Consular, dumbass.”

“Why am I going?” Alek asked, desperate for a way out. He would sit in a locked room with Vrook fucking Lamar for eight hours if it meant he didn’t have to go, and those lectures would probably bore him to death.

“Because you know how to be polite and you’re very passionate about this. Perfect combination. I can point you at some of the more bleeding heart types and you can talk them into supporting our cause,” Meetra explained, finally setting the spray down. “Right, I’m ready when you two are.”

“I’m always publicly presentable,” Dorven grinned. Meetra rolled her eyes and reached up to run a hand through his auburn hair, putting it into something of a slightly more orderly fashion, before grabbing his tunic and tugging it back into place neatly, adjusting his belt.

“Now you are.”

“How come you never do this to Alek?”

“Because Alek doesn’t look like a slob.”

“I’m very neat,” Alek teased his friend. Dorven pouted as Meetra dragged them away.

_Try not to get into any fights._

Revan’s presence in his mind was as familiar as his own thoughts and he smirked.

_I promise. I’m not you._

Her indignation was rather pointed as it filtered back across the bond.

To Alek’s surprise, the party that Meetra’s aunt had set up was a mostly tasteful affair, with champagne being the strongest thing served. He counted his lucky stars, he didn’t want to see what half of these people were like drunk. As it was, he was hiding by the drinks table, which had been conveniently tucked into a corner of what looked like a repurposed conference room, judging by the oblong shape of the place. Decent view of Coruscant, not that he ever really liked the view on Coruscant, being a giant city planet and all. The wall of windows was wasted on this place.

“I take it you’re not a fan either?”

The voice was masculine, strong. Alek turned to see a man in a pressed Republic uniform lurking, drink in hand, scowling something fierce as he apparently tried to become invisible.

“I’m not one for politics.”

“That makes two of us. You must be one of the Jedi that Admiral Dodonna invited. One of these so-called Crusaders?”

“Is that what they’re calling us?”

“Catchy names are popular with the media. Spinning a tale of brave Jedi willing to sacrifice everything for the Republic and her people is doing wonders for certain ratings right now. But, I doubt that’s why you’re doing this.”

“No. For most of us, it’s because we know our calling is to defend the Republic… for some of us, it’s because we’ve seen Mandalorian brutality firsthand.”

The man’s brow lifted slightly, “Oh?”

“I’m from Quelii, myself. There’s nothing left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. That sector got hit hard, early, before we knew what was happening. I wish we could have done more.”

“So long as we stop the Mandos now, I and my people will be content.”

The man lifted his glass and replied, “Hear hear. I never did get your name, Master Jedi.”

“Knight Alek.”

“I’m Captain Saul Karath. I suspect we’ll be having a fair few conversations in the future.”

“Hopefully on the bridge of a Republic vessel with the full blessing of the Senate and the Jedi.”

“Isn’t that the dream?”

The two lapsed into silence, observing the room over the rims of their glasses. He could feel a teasing poke through the Force from Meetra and knew he’d hear about it later. Dorven dropped by at one point to grab another drink.

“Honestly, this is so much easier than chatting up swoop gangs and thugs in the Dealer’s Den.”

Alek rolled his eyes, “Only you would think that, Dorven. You can’t punch these people conversationally.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I kinda like the lack of having to throw hands to get what I need. Although we’ll be doing a lot more of that.”

“As if you don’t enjoy the thrill.”

“Fair point,” the ginger-haired Knight grinned, “I do love a good adrenaline rush. Think the fighter corps will need a new pilot?”

“Fly well enough and you’ll have them clamoring to take you on,” Karath seemed highly amused by this conversation.

“Hey, fancy Navy man!” Dorven grinned, “You know any good ones?”

“I might. Ensign Peatris is certainly up and coming, and I’m trying my hardest to get a few of the better veterans to reenlist.”

“Peatris? Not Kimmy?” Alek frowned.

“Yes, actually. You know her?”

“Her twin brother is one of our merry little band of agitators,” Dorven explained, “Kaeden. Nice guy, bit uptight. I hear his sister is the life of the party.”

Karath chuckled, “She’s something, alright. If she weren’t such a good pilot I doubt she’d have half as many friends as she does. Chaotic is one way to describe her.”

“She and Revan can never meet,” Alek declared. Dorven snorted.

“Bold of you to assume you can stop it. Once Rev catches wind of a friendly pilot, she’ll be all over that. Bonus points if Kimmy can also talk swoop.”

“Don’t remind me,” Alek groaned, “She’s going to crash one of these days. Horrifically.”

“Pfft, you worry too much. The Force is a useful guide in situations like that.”

“The Force seems to be useful in a lot of situations,” Karath opined. Dorven nodded.

“It’s why they don’t let Jedi officially race on the circuits anymore. Not that that’s ever stopped me or Revan, but hey. The more they don’t know.”

Alek stifled a sigh. How was it he kept collecting adrenaline junkie Sentinels? He would never understand it.

The party wound down shortly after that and the trio of Jedi headed back to the Temple.

“You think they’ll go for it? I’m pretty sure we have full Admiralty support behind us now,” Meetra asked, adjusting her sleeves slightly, an old nervous habit of hers.

“You know the Council doesn’t listen to the Admiralty, Meetra,” Alek shrugged, “Not unless it hurts some Councillor’s pet project’s pocket book.”

“Well, guess I’ll have to bleed them, huh?”

“What, are you going to start talking to your granddad?” Dorven asked, “I think his company has ties to several of those pet projects.”

Meetra’s flash of annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“Em?” Alek asked, frowning. She sighed.

“He’s been trying to get into contact. I, uh… might let him. I know how much we’re needed and if it means I have to talk to the family that doesn’t accept me… I’ll do it.”

“Let me know if we need to have a chat with him, yeah?” Dorven bumped her with his shoulder, “We’ll set him on the straight and narrow, no deadnaming allowed here!”

“You’ll always be our Meetra, regardless of what the old prick says,” Alek agreed emphatically.

“Thanks guys,” she smiled, “You’re really the best.”

“Oh, we know,” Dorven gave a cheeky grin.

In the apartment they’d all decided to pile into earlier, which were actually Meetra and Revan’s quarters, they found Revan and Kaeden hard at work, several datapads spread around them on the kitchen table as they argued.

“No, see, that won’t work,” Kaeden was shaking his head, “We can’t just march in and demand anything, we have to start diplomatically.”

“I’ve tried. Repeatedly. They keep dismissing me each time. I’m starting to think they just don’t like me,” Revan leaned back, scowling.

“Gee, I couldn’t imagine why that would be.”

“I will come across this table.”

“That, right there. That’s the issue. They say you aren’t being Jedi-like? Be the most Jedi you can possibly be. Wear the beige, be serene, have your research. Be everything you are not and have never wanted to be. They won’t expect it and it’ll throw them for a loop.”

Revan seemed to be thinking on that pretty hard when Alek leaned against her, resting his forearm on top of her head.

“I will end you,” she muttered.

“No you won’t. You said it yourself, I have a very nice hair and a nicer ass.”

“Lucky for you.”

“That, also… keep that under wraps,” Kaeden shook his head, “They can’t think of you two as anything less than consummate Jedi.”

“Kaeden, they already know,” Revan pointed out.

“Yeah, but don’t like, be overt. Don’t rub it in their faces. You’re two Jedi who work well together with your Consular. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it.”

Meetra flopped on the couch, “Right, men out. I need to sleep and I’m not changing with you idiots lurking.”

“Think on what I said!” Kaeden called out as he swept up his datapads and headed out, dragging Dorven with him.

Alek gave a mock dramatic sigh, “I suppose I shall be off, then. Try not to get into trouble, ladies.”

“That’s only when you’re around,” Meetra fired back, shooing him out as Revan laughed.


	2. Raise Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Young blood, run like a river.  
> Young blood, never get chained.  
> Young blood, heaven need a sinner.  
> You can't raise hell with a saint."
> 
> -Raise Hell, Dorothy
> 
> (in which Alek goes recruiting and contemplates homiecide)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two in one day woohoo! I'm on a roll. This is gonna start off kinda slow, but it'll pick up in the next few chapters. I have like an entire outline of the war and I'm going bit by bit. I also have a playlist.

“Taris. You want me to go recruiting on Taris?”

“Why not? If we can get someone like Draay on our side, we can get the Council.”

Revan was pacing, back and forth and back and forth in front of him, which would normally irritate him, but he knew that she thought best on her feet, so he didn’t say anything. Not even a single snarky comment. A singularly difficult achievement, truly.

Alek rolled his eyes, “Yeah, like Lucien Fucking Draay is going to agree with us. You know how he and his seer buddies are, if they don’t foresee a favorable outcome, he’ll never agree.”

“Well, they’re about to knight their Padawans, maybe recruit them.”

“We’re going to have an army of angry young Jedi at this rate.”

“If that’s what it takes,” Revan retorted.

Alek pinched the bridge of his nose, “Revan… I know you want to do this, but we have to do it right.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

She spun, her dark braid almost hitting him in the face as she stalked over to the bay of windows, glaring out at the Coruscant horizon. The sun was starting to set and the dying rays seemed to halo her figure and for a moment Alek forgot he wasn’t supposed to stare.

“Rev… I know. I know you’re trying your hardest, I really do. This isn’t easy, it-”

“You don’t need to patronize me.”

Her voice was hard and cold, and Alek resisted the urge to sigh. Now she was annoyed, and he wouldn’t be able to get anything else done tonight.

“I’ll leave in the morning, on my way to the front. I think it’ll be Suurja we drop on first, rumor has it that the Mandies are creeping around that part of the front. Getting in a stop on Taris shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Understood.”

With a final glance back at her, he left, almost running into Meetra on his way.

“Good luck out there,” she said with a small smile, “And may the Force be with you.”

“You as well, Meetra.”

The walk back to his shared quarters was quiet, and thankfully Dorven was out for the evening.

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap._

Her presence was always welcome and he couldn’t help but to smile.

_I know. You’re stressed, I get it. We can chat more after I get back from Suurja. I’m going to need my sleep if I have to deal with Dorven and Kaeden on the same shuttle the entire way to Taris._

Her amusement was warm.

_Don’t kill them._

_No promises, Rev. You know how they get._

His dreams that night were surprisingly quiet, he usually had wicked nightmares before a trip like this. He half suspected that Revan had leveraged their bond to hold them at bay, but he’d never ask her. She had all sorts of tricks he didn’t entirely understand, likely the result of years spent as the apprentice of an archivist.

His shuttle flight out was at 0500 Coruscant Standard, which was before dawn and frankly before any sane being should be awake and functional. He barely managed to remember which way his damn pants went on, he was so exhausted. At least he remembered his lightsaber before he headed to the hangar bay on the west side of the Temple, the one that seemed to be where all the Knights kept their unregistered hotrodded bikes, because at least a solid third of them had some sort of illegal tech, but far be it from Alek to point fingers. Not like he was a fan of the Council. Kaeden and Dorven were waiting for him in front of a rather plain cargo shuttle, sporting faded Republic livery. 

Kaeden was, as always, upright and alert, not even a cup of caffa in hand. Alek and Dorven both clung to theirs. Alek’s was dark as space and Dorven’s was sugared half to death. Alek had no idea how the other Jedi could stomach that much sugar at once without getting jittery.

Being the only fully alert one of the bunch, Kaeden took the controls and obtained clearance to depart, all in his usual business-like manner. Dorven curled up in the copilot’s chair to make bleary commentary and Alek went to go hammer the malfunctioning caffa machine into submission. He was going to need a lot more of the life-giving bean juice to function today, especially with the inevitable arguments these two would get into.

Just as he predicted, as soon as Dorven finished his cup of caf, he was ready to argue. It was like turning on a switch, one cup and Dorven was activated and ready to go. Alek wondered what fluke of genetics made Dorven and Kaeden so able to function on such minimal energy.

“You can’t seriously tell me that you think the Corellian team is going to win this season! It’s obvious that Telos has it in the bag, look at the roster!”

“One good player does not a team make, Skywalker.”

“A dozen good players, idiot. Check these stats.”

“University league does not match up to the big leagues and you know it. Corellia has a seasoned roster and they work well together. That’s how you win, not with a bunch of wet behind the ears hotshots thinking they can singlehandedly win a match. Telos hasn’t fronted a decent team in over a decade.”

Force save him, they were arguing over Huttball teams. He could not possibly care less about the sport but they apparently seemed into it. He knew for a fact that Dorven participated in those stupid fantasy leagues, and he hoped Kaeden didn’t, they just seemed like such a waste of time.

Case in point…

“I wouldn’t put a single one of those Corellian guys on my roster,” Dorven was saying, “They can’t hold up to the real players.”

“Remind me when the last time you successfully predicted a season outcome was?”

“Last season. I told you that Alderaan was going to win and they did.”

“Congratulations, you have one successful prediction in the decade we’ve known each other. I have predicted the previous three seasons successfully before that. Corellia, Corellia, Tatooine. Telos has not won a single match in the entire time we have been friends.”

“Bullshit, they won last season, that first match against Coruscant.”

“That was a fluke. The ref totally blew that call.”

Alek was going to commit murder. He was going to do it in some fun and interesting new way that involved crashing this fucking shuttle.

He was saved by an almost literal bell as the holocom went off.

“Thank the fucking gods,” he muttered, hitting the key to answer it.

“This is Knight Alek of the Jedi Order. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“ _You must think you’re a comedian, huh?_ ”

He chuckled, spinning in his coopted pilot’s chair to face the holo.

“Good to hear from you too, Padawan. What brings you to grace my holo at this fine hour of the morning?”

Bastila Shan rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. She’d had a growth spurt recently, but she was still barely over five feet. She still kept her hair in those silly little pigtails she’d been wearing for years now, apparently with no intentions of stopping. Somehow, her robes were perfectly pressed and neat, despite Alek knowing for a fact it was just past 0800 Coruscant Standard Time. This was not teenage energy, this was entirely to blame on Bastila’s perfectionist streak.

“ _Master Nomi wanted me to ask what your plans were on Taris. Apparently you’re wandering around unsanctioned now._ ”

“Catching up with some old friends, bothering Draay, then heading out again.”

“ _Not recruiting those old friends?_ ”

This kid was too damned perceptive for her own good. One of these days, it was going to bite her in the ass.

“I would never! Meetra is our recruiter, you know that.”

“-like a fucking imbecile!”

Alek swore creatively in Huttese and sighed, “Although, if it gets me off this shuttle, I would do literally anything. I’d kiss a damn Hutt to get off this shuttle.”

“ _That’s disgusting. Imagine all the diseases._ ”

“I’m here with Kaeden and Dorven and they’re arguing _huttball_. I’m willing to take the risk.”

“ _My sympathies. Have you thought about crashing?_ ”

“If we weren’t trying to make friends with the military, I might. But they’d have to pick us up and that’s not a good first impression. But who knows, they may be sympathetic.”

“ _Probably not. They don’t go around crashing shuttles because of idiots._ ”

“Well, not with that attitude, they don’t.”

Bastila made a sound as she glanced away from the holo.

“ _Anyway, I should go. I got the answer Master Nomi wanted and I have to get to class in… five minutes now. Should I use the Force?_ ”

“Obviously. Force speed is a gift, use it wisely. Just make sure you don’t run over any Masters, they frown upon that and the lecture would take days.”

“ _Only you would get a lecture for days. They love me and would forgive me._ ”

“Arrogance, Padawan, is a danger to us all.”

She blew a raspberry at him and cut the channel, leaving him laughing. Bastila was fifteen now, and every bit the nuisance he and Revan were at that age, minus the fun missions they got dragged on by Masters Kae and Lestin. Bastila at least had a somewhat responsible Master, although describing Nomi Sunrider as responsible was a dicey game, given that Vima’s own tendencies to find trouble were definitely inherited. So was the vindictive streak, but how was he supposed to know that dye would turn her hair green instead of violet? 

“Was that Bastila?” Dorven asked, appearing behind him.

“Yep. She had to run to class.”

“Could have let me know.”

“You were too busy arguing about sports.”

Evidently the annoyance in Alek’s tone was plainer than he would have liked and Dorven winced.

“Right, sorry. You know how we get.”

“Dorven.”

The ginger tilted his head and replied, “Yeah?”

“I love you like a brother, but I will murder you in your damn sleep.”

“What about me?” Kaeden called out from the main hold.

“I’ll just shove you out an airlock.”

“At least it’ll be quick!”

Dorven was snickering, “Yeah, but mine will be painless.”

“Force help me, you two better not argue about who I’m going to off in a more unpleasant fashion, because if you do, I’ll crash this shuttle on purpose.”

“Going out with a bang!” Dorven smirked, ducking back into the main hold.

These two idiots were lucky Alek liked them, honestly.

Fortunately, they kept to themselves until they landed on Taris, which was when Dorven took the controls and performed the showiest landing possible, in a fashion that did not impress Traffic Control any.

“ _Jedi Shuttle Six-One-Eight, I’ll thank you not to pull that on takeoff when you leave. I’ll write the ticket myself._ ”

“Eh, bill it to the Order, pal. They’re the ones who gave me my license.”

“ _Remind me to file a complaint, then._ ”

Alek went ahead to greet the masters of the Taris Enclave, bracing himself for the inevitable Jedi politicking.

To his utter lack of surprise, there was politicking aplenty.

“Knight Alek. A pleasure to see you again,” Master Lucien Draay greeted him, false pleasantries layering his words.

“You as well, Master Draay. I hear your Padawan is to be knighted soon?”

“Perhaps. We’ll see how his final trial goes.”

It was known that Master Draay’s Padawan had a… unique connection to the Force. Zayne Carrick was a unique case as a Jedi, but he had been failed the minute they paired him with Lucien Draay. Draay was a harsh taskmaster who didn’t understand Zayne’s connection like the Masters on Dantooine had. Alek remembered overhearing Vandar talk about it once, and had been struck by how odd that supposed unique connection had been. He’d been keeping an eye on Zayne over the last year, as a potential Crusader recruit, and he was hoping Zayne would be knighted soon so he could snap that one up. Promising young knight, that one. Assuming he made it that far.

Alek was about to head into the Enclave when Draay stopped him.

“Could I ask a favor, Knight Alek?”

“Certainly, Master Draay.”

“I suspect my Padawan may be late, again. Could you try and find him? All you need really do is follow the trail of debris, he’ll be at the end of it. He was hunting that Snivvian foe of his again.”

Alek grinned, “Certainly.”

There was a speeder nearby that was easy enough to sync to his wrist comm, just in case. He never trusted the pilots on Taris, they were all too eager to knock someone out of a traffic lane for the thrill. It was probably why Dorven snuck out here annually for the swoop competitions, because if the regular pilots were this homicidal, Alek didn’t want to imagine the swoop pilots in the lower levels.

He hadn’t gone far when he spotted something that was definitely out of the ordinary. A young man in an orange robe was using a golden saber to cut through something and then promptly freefalling out of a… hover chair? Alek would love to know the story behind that. He angled his speeder properly and then leapt, catching the young man around the waist and sending them tumbling to the rooftop of a nearby skyscraper. He landed on his feet and the kid on his backside. He grinned at the kid.

“You’re Zayne Carrick, right? Your Master sent me to look for you. He said to follow the trail of debris.”

The kid groaned, “Yeah… that sounds like him…”

Alek reached out to help him up and Zayne continued, “Thanks for the save. You’re a Jedi? I didn’t know there were other Jedi on Taris -- besides us at the Academy.”

“A few of us are passing through,” Alek replied, “On our way to the front. The guys call me Squint. Our Master’s an acquaintance of your Master Lucien. We’re hoping to recruit some Jedi to come with us.”

To be entirely fair, it was only the regular Crusaders who called him Squint, Dorven and Kaeden had dropped the nickname years ago. Revan still used it to irritate him, but she was just… well. She was Revan. He got back at her when he started calling her their Master, which the others picked up eagerly. Now it was a pseudo war between them on the nickname front.

“To the war?” Zayne asked, “I’m afraid you’re wasting your time. My Master doesn’t think the war with the Mandalorians is the Jedi’s business.”

Fucking figures.

“ _Hmph_. Him and half the Jedi Council.”

“And the other Masters at our school, too. They say the business of the Jedi is to guard against the rise of the Sith.”

Force save him from that spiel again. He hopped on his speeder that he’d been busy remotely piloting back to him and Zayne grabbed the back seat.

Alek rolled his eyes as he explained, “The Sith again! Zayne, you and I could be Mandalorians with our boots at your Masters’ throats -- but to get them to notice us, we’d have to paint our heads and babble about the dark side! It’s ridiculous, don’t you see? The Sith threat ended, what, thirty years ago? The Mandalorians are the threat. The Mandalorians are here… almost. We need every able-bodied Jedi we can get.”

Zayne snorted, “Well, you’re seen how able-bodied I am -- and I’m not a Jedi. Not yet, anyway. My class has a challenge to face off-world next week. It may be my last chance to become a Knight.”

That was disheartening to hear.

“You don’t like your odds?”

“My luck ranges from barely tolerable to cataclysmic. Master Lucien says I’m living proof the Force has a sense of humor.”

Don’t punch the uptight prick. Don’t punch the uptight prick. Don’t punch the-

_Why are we punching an uptight prick and which one is it?_

At least Revan could be relied on to show up at strange moments.

_I’ll explain later. It’s a fucking ride._

_Can’t wait._

Alek landed the speeder and noticed that Kaeden and Dorven were almost finished loading the supplies they were gathering. “Well, here we are. Looks like they’re already breaking up. I guess we’ve got to be on our way to the front. I would have liked for you to have met my Master.”

“Me, too,” Zayne replied with a sheepish grin.

Alek paused as he turned to walk back to the shuttle and then turned back. “Look, Zayne. I don’t know you well, but you may turn out to be a bigger player than you think. Something tells me.”

“The Force?” Zayne asked.

Alek shook his head and replied, “A hunch. Just be ready for wherever the journey goes. That’s what we’re going to do. We’ll go to the front -- and beyond it, if it’ll save the galaxy. Sometimes you have to enter the darkness to save the light.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very Jedi thought.”

“It’s not always a very Jedi galaxy, in case you haven’t noticed,” Alek’s lips curved up in a smile before he shrugged, “Well, the war awaits. See you around, Zayne!”

He boarded the shuttle and found Dorven smirking at him.

“You’re gonna adopt that one, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off.”


	3. Swan Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What is the point,  
> Of my lips if they don't make noise?  
> What is the point,  
> Of doing nothing at all?  
> Watching it fall."
> 
> -Swan Song, Dua Lipa (from the Alita: Battle Angel soundtrack)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Revan takes a jaunt behind enemy lines, learns some not-so-fun information, and gets in no less than two physical fights in less than an hour.

Revan had just wanted to start her day normally. Some actual breakfast for once, because of fucking course Alek had left notes all over the place reminding her to do things like eat and sleep. He was honestly lucky she adored him.

Today’s breakfast options consisted of possibly slightly out of date yogurt of questionable origin or toast. She wisely picked the toast and a mug of strong caffa. She was going to need it today, with all the travel arrangements she needed to finalize. She was going to undertake a solo mission to Dxun to scout out things for herself. It would involve cracking out some old armor, but she had to blend in, especially if she got the shit end of the stick and someone like Fett was there.

She was crunching on a burnt piece of toast that she’d accidentally left unattended when her comm started chirping incessantly. She ignored it for a while, but finally it started blaring an emergency tone.

“Can I not even finish my damn caf?” she muttered irritably, almost breaking the button to answer it.

“What?” she snapped.

“ _... good morning to you as well, Knight Revan._ ”

Fucking hells, it was Vrook Lamar.

“Apologies, Master Lamar. I slept poorly last night.”

“ _I see. The Council wishes to speak with you before you depart._ ”

“What time?”

“ _In an hour. Will that be sufficient time to finish waking up?_ ”

Gods if he wasn’t the smuggest bastard in existence right now, the prick.

“Of course. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Like hell she would. As soon as he disconnected she sent a quick message to Meetra and grabbed her bag. She’d planned on leaving today anyway, so she had everything.

It took a bit of doing to sneak out of the Temple, but she still knew all the best ways out, including through the maintenance tunnels, which was absolutely the way she took because who actually checked those things. They did not do any wonders for her hair, though, which she had forgotten to braid on her way out the door. Once she was out, she hailed the first taxi she could find.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.

“Spaceport, if you don’t mind. Got a flight to catch.”

“Will do.”

By the time the hour had come and gone, she was in hyperspace on a nondescript shuttle, tugging on her armor, holocom buried in the bottom of her bag on silent. She wasn’t going back until she had the proof she needed. They’d have to listen to her then.

Revan knew that getting to Dxun wouldn’t be easy, which was why she set course for Onderon. She’d park the shuttle in Iziz while she went to Dxun and did her digging.

It had been a while since she’d put on the armor, but she fell into old habits and soon found herself staring at the mirror while she braided her hair to stay put in the helmet. This armor had been scavenged from what was left of her family when she was a child, and when she turned eighteen she had snuck off to have it properly resized to fit, though that had taken some doing. Between the armor and the general appearance, the green eyes and brown skin and black hair pulled back, she couldn’t tell if it was herself she saw… or her dead father. Buir had always said she was the spitting image of him, but she’d never really seen it until now.

A ding startled her into dropping several hair pins, leading to a string of rather inventive curses in a mixture of Mando’a and Huttese.

“Who the hells…”

It was her datapad, the one thing she hadn’t turned off. There was a message from Meetra on it.

_Rev,_

_Headed to Serroco myself, can’t blame you for banging out when you did. Got word from Alek, recruitment on Taris was a no-go, you-know-who is still an ass. He’s headed for Suurja now. We’ll keep you updated. Don’t get caught._

_-Em_

Revan chuckled softly. Leave it to Meetra to find a way offworld at the same time, and manage to find a way to a place with actual friendly people. Serroco was a Republic world, not too far from the front but far enough to at least not see action yet. She was probably drumming up more support. Meanwhile, Alek was headed to the front and Revan was headed into enemy space. One of these days, that luck would reverse.

She sat down at the helm in time for the ship’s computer to drop the craft out of hyperspace and into a very high orbit over Onderon.

Naturally, there was immediately a hail.

“ _Iziz Orbital Control Center to unidentified shuttle. State your purpose and destination._ ”

“Dxun. Got business with the clans.”

Thank the entire Force that her people were usually brisk, or else this would take forever and a month.

“ _Dxun. Another Mando, then? Fine. Don’t come to Iziz and don’t cause problems._ ”

Well, that blew that particular idea, then. Landing on Dxun, it was.

“Wasn’t planning on either, Control. Thanks for nothing.”

She cut the channel, presumably to Control’s annoyance, and then plotted the course to the main landing zone on Dxun, reaching out through the Force to get a read on it.

Almost immediately, she got hit with a wave of darkness, but she grit her teeth and pushed past it, finally breaking through and getting a sense of just how many Mandalorians were there and… it was a lot. So many of her people were here… Mand’alor was a clever bastard, she’d give him that. Jedi didn’t stray this way on principle, especially after what happened to Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma. Her presence here would go undetected, but so would theirs.

She landed without much challenge in the main landing zone which was really just a giant field with scorched earth surrounded by equally scorched trees, easily the only clear space within the hemisphere, dense as the damned jungle was, and jammed her helmet on before debarking. The pair of Mandos who greeted her pointedly looked over her head, pretending to scan for the pilot.

“Coulda sworn I heard a _vod_ was headed this way,” the taller of the two said, blue armor shining as if he’d just polished it this morning. Why the universe insisted on reminding her that she drew the literal short stick on this was beyond her.

Normally, she would respond with words, but this was a Mandalorian camp on Dxun. Her gut instinct would fit in much better here.

She drew back and slammed her fist into his gut, forcing him to double over before grabbing the bottom of his helmet and forcing him to eye level.

“That better, _mir’sheb’ika_?”

The other one started laughing hysterically, almost wheezing, his armor a bronze color and far dustier than his friend’s.

“Got you there, _ner vod_. Gotta be careful of the small ones, they tend to sneak up on you.”

“Hardly did any sneaking,” she retorted, rolling her eyes under her helmet.

“Snuck up on my fucking gut, you did, _vod’ika_ ,” Blue protested.

“You deserve it. Walk it off.”

Blue straightened with a grunt, his buddy pointedly not helping him.

“Where’re you headed?”

“Somewhere that’s got decent _tihaar_ , I figure. This isn’t a Jendri parking spot, is it? I’d hate to be stuck with that fruity pisswater they call booze.”

Blue, who was still slightly bent over shrugged, “Alamira Kryze and her pack set up just over the ridge. They’d probably be willing to share. Which clan are you?”

“Ordo. Don’t feel like going all the way across the planet to them, though. Kryze isn’t bad. She’s a decent type.”

“That she is. Try not to attract the wildlife, they’ve had issues.”

“Fair enough. Try not to piss anyone else off, _vod_.”

She tossed off a jaunty salute and meandered away as they laughed. First part done, now to get her hands on the locations of the other clans. It helped that she was perfectly aware that Ordo would have set up as far away from Fett as possible, and Cassus was currently courting Alamira last she heard, so the one clan that might know her wouldn’t be here. Deductive reasoning for the win.

She found her way over to a collection of crude crate “tables” and a mixture of log benches and what looked to be sheets of steel stretched over smaller crates on uneven ground. There were various Mandos gathered towards one side, attentively listening to something, but Revan was more focused on not being noticed than on whatever they were doing.

Revan took a seat at the first empty table she found that still had a keg on it, pouring some _tihaar_ as she removed her helm. She’d made a point of using some creative makeup application to hide the bags under her eyes, making her look like some fresh faced warrior, ready for a fight.

“Well, well, well,” a voice called out, “Fresh blood. What brings you to us, _vod_?”

Alamira Kryze stood on a table nearby, clearly having been in the midst of telling a story. The woman was tall, unfairly so, with cropped reddish blonde hair swept back from her face and hazel eyes crinkled with good humor. Her armor hid the scars on her neck that Revan knew were from her time in slavery but nobody ever actually spoke about.

“Ordo was too far to walk, _alor_. Figured here was as good a place as any to grab a drink. Long week.”

Alamira laughed, “Been a long week for everyone, but that’s soon to change. Have as many as you like, _vod_ , and listen in. So, there I was, trapped between a stack of cargo crates and a ship’s hull with a Republic patrol closing in. My armor was still in the security office, those bastards, and all I had was a half-empty blaster.”

Revan leaned back as Alamira spun the tallest tale she’d ever heard, complete with daring heroics and an even more daring escape from the clutches of the Republic with one of their latest fighter models. She didn’t believe most of it, but the part about stealing the fighter was true, though she’d heard it’d been off a base, not from a cruiser, but who was counting anymore?

At least the drink was decent. She’d probably have had to get creative if she’d wound up in Jendri territory, her _ba’buir_ had always told horror stories of their brew.

The bench she was sitting on, one of the precarious steel and small crate contraptions, rattled a bit as another warrior heaved his considerable bulk into it, almost forcing her off.

“Watch it, _chakaar_ ,” she muttered, glaring. He just scoffed.

“Typical Ordo swine.”

Oh, so it was going to be that kind of night, huh? Apparently it was, seeing as how this guy was only just getting started.

“You’re a pack of arrogant _shabuir_ , all of you, walking in like you own the place,” he was saying, “Like you’re in command. Someone ought to get it through Canderous’ thick skull that he isn’t in charge, and-”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by Revan’s Force-enhanced fist slamming into his face and sending him rolling off the bench and to the ground. She sat back and tossed back the rest of her drink.

“Do us all a favor, _vod_ ,” she said coolly, “Shut the fuck up during storytime. I was getting invested.”

Alamira gave a bark of laughter, “You heard her, Ilsan. Shut your fucking mouth and listen well.”

The man rubbed his jaw as he glared at Revan, sulking off to find another bench.

What she wouldn’t give for this kind of free entertainment on Coruscant, but it was a crime to punch assholes there. Here, it was expected.

Eventually, Alamira wound down the stories and Clan Kryze dispersed to head to bed. Revan waved them off, looking for all the world like she was determined to finish the keg by herself. When she was alone and the lookouts were otherwise occupied, she reached over and replaced her helmet, toggling a switch to shut the external lighting off entirely, not even a glow from her visor. Another switch on her vambrace turned off all possible methods of tracking her and activated a system in the armor to dampen her heat signature. Usually, it didn’t work worth half a shit, but she’d had it installed in the eventuality she’d wander by Dxun and needed to blend in with the jungle.

She snuck off to the perimeter and began mapping out the location of each clan and the important buildings, methodically. First Kryze, then Fett practically on top of Kryze’s campsite, and then a bit of a hike until she found Bralor tucked in by Cadera and Spar in spitting distance of one of the many ruins that dotted the moon’s jungles. It was another hike through dense jungle that kept tripping her up to find Ordo alongside Jendri, Kelborn and Sornell. Her hunch had been right, the clans were gathering in a massive way.

She paused by Kelborn to collate her data up until then, looking for troop strengths, and she tuned in to a conversation between two lookouts.

The first one, shorter than their comrade, was checking the scope of their rifle, tweaking it.

“You hear about Taris?” they asked. The second, tall and broad, shrugged.

“What part? Latest swoop race?”

“Nah. I heard that some Jedi kid went crazy and killed his buddies.”

“Seriously? Thought that was just _osik_.”

“My buddies out on the front say it’s true. Kid was apparently some washout and got jealous and just killed all his classmates. Rough gig. Maybe we can pick him up.”

“So, let me get this straight: a washout killed all the actually successful students? _Ner vod_ , you’ve been at the jungle juice again.”

“Just telling you what the sources are saying. Apparently there’s a huge manhunt on. I almost feel bad for the little _chakaar_ , if it turns out he got set up or something like that. Wouldn’t put it beyond the _shabla jetii_ to pull something like that, _hutuun’la chakaar_ that they are.”

“Bless ‘em all, couldn’t have gotten as far as we have without their stupidity or cowardice.”

“ _Kaysh mirsh solus_ , eh?”

The pair chuckled and Revan moved on, mind reeling. Washout? Who had washed out of the class on Taris? And could they have killed the others? She had a bad feeling about this.

She was almost back to the shuttle she’d arrived on when she felt the bond with Alek go haywire with his panic.

_Have to hold the line, have to hold… damn, there’re too many of them! Dorven needs to… no, he’s down. Kaeden has to take over, he has to hold the west…_

She pulled on the bond hard and then projected her worry.

_Alek? Alek, what’s wrong? What happened to Dorven, what is going on?_

She could almost feel the adrenaline now as she hurried onto the shuttle, taking off as fast as she could and probably pissing off the landing pad guards as well as Iziz Control with how fast she jumped to hyperspace.

Revan sat to meditate and reached out across the bond, trying to understand.

_Revan. You have to warn them, Suurja is down! Suurja is-_

The bond slammed shut and threw her back into her own body, reeling. Before she knew what she was doing, she was punching in a channel to the Republic, using her status as a Jedi Knight to push through most of the bureaucratic bullshit.

“Republic Command, do you read me? I repeat, do you read me?”

There was a lot of static and background chatter as her signal got routed through whichever command ship was closest to her. Thank the Force for general channels and Meetra’s aunt being an admiral and all.

“ _This is Admiral Veltraa. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?_ ”

“I’m Knight Revan. I just received word from my comrades on Suurja, the planet has fallen.”

“ _Your comrades? Forgive me, but you’re wearing Mandie armor._ ”

Revan swore and tossed the helmet off, “I was behind enemy lines, gathering intel. Like I said, I got word that Suurja had fallen.”

Veltraa was not amused, apparently.

“ _I highly doubt that, this cordon is secure. If you can name your comrades, I can confirm._ ”

Revan rolled her eyes, hard.

“Look, if you check it out, it’ll be true. Knights Alek, Skywalker and Peatris could confirm, all are on Suurja.”

Veltraa stepped out of range to check on the reports and returned several minutes later, a grim expression on her face.

“ _How were they able to contact you?_ ”

“I, well… it’s a long and complicated explanation that will probably make zero sense if you’re not a Jedi, but the Force, basically. I can head your way now to confirm, if you’d like, Admiral. I am at the service of the Republic.”

“ _You’re in charge of these so-called Crusaders, aren’t you?_ ”

“I am.”

“ _Then continue your work. Get us more Jedi and I will do all I can to recover the troops on Suurja._ ”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

“ _If that’s all, Knight Revan, I seem to have more on my plate. Veltraa out._ ”

The channel closed and Revan swore creatively and slammed a fist on the console, promising to deal with this herself, as soon as she got her findings to the right people on Coruscant.

Honestly, damn the mission sometimes. It was annoying.

The datapad she had brought with her, her personal one, shattered suddenly and she jumped, staring at it.

“Damn it all.”

She grabbed her other one and used it to send a message to Meetra, warning her of what happened on Suurja and to brace for the fallout. If Suurja had fallen… things were about to get much more heated on the war front.

With a sigh, she put her head in her hands.

_Alek… please be safe… please be out there somewhere… I will come for you, I swear it._


	4. This Is Our War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Take a chance on me  
> United we will bleed  
> You gave me a reason to fight once again  
> We stand together, we'll stand 'till the end  
> Through all the pain I know this is worth dying for."
> 
> -This Is Our War, Halocene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited the first three chapters on 2/16/21, as I noticed some issues and fleshed out a few things. These first few chapters will be shorter, but we're getting into the action soon. I'm keeping a decent pace with these, but that won't always be a thing, I'm just particularly into this right now. With that all said, I'll try to keep updating somewhat regularly, so here's chapter four!

Alek had decided about as soon as they landed that this planet was among his top ten least favorites. The almost absurd amount of Mandalorians trying to kill them was only increasing that.

“Do you think we can get some backup?” he snarked to Dorven as they huddled behind a barricade about seventy meters from the main Mando advance. Blaster rounds kept impacting the dirt around them, sending up small plumes that were irritating to both the eyes and throat, which was really just another point in the negative column for this place.

“What you see is what you get!” Dorven snapped back, ducking lower as a blaster round impacted on the barricade, rattling it slightly. These things had definitely seen better days about three rounds and two years ago.

“Give them credit!” a soldier with them called out, “Fucking persistent bastards!”

She peeked over and then ducked back down just as quickly, cursing.

“Ensign, you might wanna keep your head down,” Alek reminded her.

“You groundpounders are no fun!” she complained, “Let me see if I can get a signal back to base.”

She fiddled with her comms in her helmet before giving a whoop.

“Hey, anyone read me? It’s Kimmy, you jokers better be awake… yeah, yeah, boss… Uh, yes sir, I’ve got two with me… sir?... got it. Copy that. Peatris out.”

“Peatris?” Alek frowned before realization hit him, “By the Force, you’re Kimmy! Heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

“Your brother is a dork!” Dorven called out, “An absolute dork who bets on all the wrong Huttball teams!”

“Let that go already, Dorv!” Alek scolded him, “Maybe after the Mandies get done with us you can yell at him about that bullshit some more.”

Kimmy grinned, “That sounds like him. Boss said to shift our shit back to the command center. We should meet up with the bulk of the Jedi forces on the way.”

Alek nodded and exchanged a glance with Dorven as he drew his lightsaber and ignited it, leaping over the barricade and creating a defensive perimeter with his lightsaber so that Dorven and Kimmy could retreat. His blue saber weaved complex and intricate patterns in the air as he carefully walked backwards, using the Force to guide him and his blade. He could sense Kaeden and the others about a quarter of a kilometer back, between them and the command center. He sent a ping through the Force as a heads up as he turned and started to run.

“Let’s go!” he bellowed, grabbing on to Kimmy’s arm to help propel her along with the Force.

They practically flew over that quarter klick and made it to Kaeden’s position in record time. A Cathar Knight greeted them.

“Hey Squint! We heard the news, pulling back. Just waiting on you guys, so we’re good to go.”

Alek nodded grimly as he ducked behind a makeshift barrier constructed of crates and some netting someone had gotten their hands on. Kaeden was crouched behind it, looking over a map he’d sketched in the dirt.

“It’s going to be a hard run,” the blonde explained, “But if we rotate our guard, we can do it. There’s a few more defensive locations along the way where we can stop. Those Mandies keep crawling up our asses like they are, though, and we won’t need to worry about that. I’m surprised they haven’t pulled the heavy weaponry yet.”

“Maybe they need this place intact?”

“That’s the dream,” Kaeden muttered before running his hand over the map, destroying it.

An explosion echoed and Alek sighed, “You had to say it.”

Kimmy slid behind the barricade with them, her eyes wide.

“They, uh… they have wardroids. Lots of them.”

Alek swore and looked around. Three different clumps of barricades: east, west, and center. A plan started to form in his mind.

“Kaeden, you take the east barricades over there. Dorven! Grab the west side. I’ll take front and center. We’ll hold here until reinforcements can get here.”

“Our comms can’t punch through the interference,” Kimmy noted, “I was barely able to get a signal through earlier and that was before they started blowing shit up.”

“See that speeder bike?” Alek gestured at a rather rundown speeder that was on its side nearby.

“Yeah?”

“If it’s still working, you take it back to the base. If not… run fast.”

Kimmy paled and gasped, “What? No, I’m not leaving. That’s not how this-”

“Kimmy.”

Kaeden’s voice was soft as he gazed at his sister and spoke, “Kimmy, you have to do it. We’re Jedi, we can hold out until you get back. Don’t worry.”

“I’m always gonna worry, idiot,” she replied, ducking her head slightly, “Try not to die, yeah?”

“I plan on living forever.”

She nodded briskly and took off at a run, keeping down to avoid being shot as she ran to the speeder, hefted it back upright and checked the engine, nodding to herself as she swung her leg over it and started the engine, gunning it towards base, not looking back.

“Let’s buy her time to get us reinforcements!” Alek roared, blade lit. Kaeden’s green blade joined his, as did Dorven’s gold, followed by the rest of the Jedi as they braced for the defence.

Alek fell into the fight, relying on all of his instincts and his training and the Force to help him defend his comrades until Kimmy could return with help. He almost had a good feeling about it until a basilisk droid soared overhead and dropped off a rather violent package in the form of a stabby Mandalorian.

He swore mentally as said stabby Mandalorian went after Dorven with a pair of very sharp-looking vibroblades.

_Have to hold the line, have to hold… damn, there’re too many of them! Dorven needs to… no, he’s down. Kaeden has to take over, he has to hold the west…_

He found himself being backed into a corner, determination faltering as he saw just how many Mandalorians surrounded them.

A familiar presence reached across the bond, worry and fear filling their link.

_Alek? Alek, what’s wrong? What happened to Dorven, what is going on?_

Revan. Force, he’d never been happier to hear her voice, even mentally.

He felt rather than heard the click of the blaster that was suddenly pressed against his temple, freezing him midslash.

“Stand down, Jedi. Or we’ll kill the others.”

With a steadiness that belied his own sudden realization that they were being captured and the rush of fear that came with it, he flicked the switch on his lightsaber and let it fall out of his hand, thudding into the dirt.

“Good Jedi,” the Mandalorian accosting him chuckled, throwing him in with the others. Kaeden’s hands were pressed to Dorven’s gut, holding the wound together. Alek couldn’t tell how bad it was, but Kaeden’s eyes burned with a fury Alek had never seen in the usually level headed Knight before.

He reached out over the bond, reaching for her.

_Revan. You have to warn them, Suurja is down! Suurja is-_

Something heavy slammed into his temple and he knew no more.

On Serroco, a Jedi meditated and reached out through the Force, searching for something that could help predict the course the war would take. She had never truly honed her gift for foresight, but she knew how to travel the currents of the Force, to search for answers that could help.

A soft breeze whispered by her in her spot at the edge of one of the numerous landing pads and she tilted her head, mentally following it back to where it came from.

“-heard the news?”

It was one of the mechanics, he was talking to a pilot.

“There’s a lot of news, these days,” the pilot shrugged, leaning against a stack of crates.

The mechanic shook his head, “Some big stuff in today. Apparently they grabbed that brat from Taris, the one who killed his buddies? Big deal. Lhosan was about to pull out and everything, but this might keep them around.”

“If some unrest makes Lhosan pull out, the Republic really needs to reconsider who they let buy Senatorships.”

The mechanic snorted, “You’re telling me, pal. Also, news from the front, from Suurja.”

Suurja? Alek was on Suurja with Kaeden and Dorven. She listened closer.

“Really? Didn’t realize that was considered the front these days, they keep fighting over the same pile of dirt and nobody can seem to figure out who is winning.”

“I’d say the Mandies are now. Reports came in that there was a bunch of Jedi hanging around and the Mandies grabbed them, every last one.”

“Seriously? Why would they want Jedi prisoners?” the pilot was frowning, hard, but she had stopped paying attention.

Prisoner? What… what had happened? She rose sharply, striding over.

“What happened on Suurja?” she demanded. The two men looked startled.

“Uh, hello Master Jedi, didn’t hear you sneaking up,” the mechanic was sweating, his dark hair sticking to his forehead a bit, “I was just telling the Ell-Tee here about the guys who got nabbed on Suurja. Were they friends?”

“We… yes. They are my friends. Is there any plan to…”

“These aren’t questions for the grunts like us, Master Jedi,” the pilot lifted his hands placatingly.

She sighed, ducking her head, “You’re right, I apologize. The news just came as a shock, that’s all. I apologize.”

“No need for that. We all worry about our friends on the other fronts.”

The mechanic had taken his opportunity to dash off, leaving the Jedi and the pilot.

“Thank you, Lieutenant…”

“Oh, it’s Onasi. Lieutenant Carth Onasi.”

“I’m Knight Meetra Surik,” she gave a small bow and the man grinned.

“Nice to meet you, Knight Surik.”

“You as well, Lieutenant Onasi.”

On Coruscant, a group of Padawans milled about, watching the news eagerly in one of the study rooms. They crowded together on a set of couches, most with abandoned homework and other materials strewn about them.

“Say, you knew Carrick, didn’t you, Bastila?” one of them asked another.

Bastila Shan looked up from her reading, frowning. She did know Zayne, back on Dantooine. He’d always been a bit odd, but nice.

“A bit, yeah. Why?”

“Do you believe he could have done something like this? I mean, come on. They say he was at the bottom of the class, that he wasn’t even going to be Knighted, and he killed all four of the others? Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”

Bastila might have laughed at any other time, like her friends did, but she wasn’t feeling up to it right now.

“I don’t think he did… I think something is very wrong here.”

“What did your Master say?” another student asked, a tall thin Nautolan girl. The first, a stocky human boy, leaned forward.

“Nothing,” Bastila replied, “She hasn’t said anything. I think the Council is trying to get to the bottom of this… or at least I hope they are.”

Someone else scoffed, “Eh, to hell with Taris. Look at Suurja. Fine example of what happens when you don’t follow the Council’s instructions.”

“Oh, come off it!” the Nautolan groaned, “You’ve had your nose so far up their asses.”

“It’s true!” the kid snapped back, lekku tightening in irritation, “The Council told them not to go to the front, but they did anyway, and now they’re all prisoners of the Mandos.”

“What?” Bastila almost dropped her datapad, staring at the Twi’lek.

“You didn’t hear? Yeah, that bunch of idiots got-”

“Shut up!” Bastila snapped, standing sharply, “They’re not idiots!”

“What, you defending them, Shan? Sheesh, hell of a hill to die on.”

“They’re my friends,” she retorted, “If the Mandos managed to take them prisoner, something bad is happening.”

“Something bad is always happening, Padawan, everywhere we look.”

The voice of Zhar Lestin startled them all. The Master had been recalled to meet with the Council, and now he was lurking in the doorway of the study room, a frown creasing his features.

“Sorry, Master,” Bastila ducked her head, “I just-”

“I know you’re worried about your friends, Bastila. I’m worried too. But we cannot ascribe bad feelings to events that are simple. They disobeyed orders and were captured on an unsanctioned mission.”

“It’s just-”

“Lay off, Bastila,” the Twi’lek she’d been arguing with rolled his eyes, “Honestly, you are such a-”

“Padawan!” Zhar’s voice was sharp and the young man froze as the Master continued, “That is not language befitting a member of the Jedi Order, particularly directed at a fellow Jedi. Return to your quarters, I will discuss this with your Master.”

The boy paled and hurried out, followed by the other two. Bastila slumped into her seat, burying her face in her hands.

Zhar’s hand rested on her shoulder gently.

“Have faith, Bastila. I know you’ve always been stubborn, Force knows all of us on Dantooine are aware of that. They will return.”

She looked up, “Alek… he was your Padawan, wasn’t he?”

“He was. And if he relies on what I taught him and the Force… he’ll return to us in due course. I trust in the Force, as should you.”

He left and Bastila sat for a long moment before getting up and hurrying to the Archives.

If they wouldn’t actively help, the least she could do was try and figure out where they’d be held prisoner so that she could give that information to Revan. Revan would act, Bastila just knew she would. She had to.


	5. Eyes Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The tricky thing is yesterday we were just children playing soldiers,  
> Just pretending, dreaming dreams with happy endings,  
> In backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords,  
> But now we've stepped into a cruel world,  
> Where everybody stands and keeps score."
> 
> -Eyes Open, Taylor Swift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Revan plays the good Jedi, decides that isn't for her, and goes to play politics instead.

“ _I just cannot believe it! Jelanros, what can you tell us about this latest development?_ ”

“ _Well, Simeena, it looks like Admiral Veltraa had no choice but to pull back from the designated Jebble-Vanquo-Tarnith line as it buckled on Vanquo. That’s right, folks, Vanquo has fallen to the Mandalorians. Word has it that Veltraa is at Taris now, and that Admiral Sommos was critically injured._ ”

“ _So… the stalemate is broken, then? Eight months, and we’re back to full blown war._ ”

“ _We never stopped with the full blown war, Simeena, we just managed to fight each other to a stalemate. The recent demoralizing blows of the Taris Padawan Massacre and the capture of the so-called Jedi Crusaders on Suurja have done a number on the troops, and this will only make it worse._ ”

“ _All we can do now, it seems, is hope that Admiral Veltraa can hold out at Taris. What do you think, Jelanros?_ ”

“ _I think you’re right. Maybe we’ll get some more Jedi to the front, but I wouldn’t count on it._ ”

The holoanchors’ conversation was cut off as Revan hurled the datapad across the room, shattering the screen. It seemed luck was on Mand’alor’s side… she needed to get this information to the Council, now, if she was to have any hope of stopping these bastards before they took Taris.

After a long moment spent recollecting herself, Revan turned to face herself in the mirror aboard her shuttle. She’d chosen the full Jedi aesthetic today, beige tunic and pants, brown tabard, and long brown cloak with a deep cowl to disguise her features. The cloak was Meetra’s idea, she had insisted that if they were going to get public outreach, the Crusaders needed a public figure that the citizens could project their hopes and ideals onto, someone who they knew would get the job done, and apparently a small woman wasn’t quite the ideal. Good to know that popular opinion was still uselessly backwards. That was why Revan was wearing heeled boots that she’d had in her closet since she was sixteen and was accompanying her Master on a mission that needed some intimidation factor.

Rolling her shoulders back, Revan pulled up the cowl and strode forward, off of the shuttle, making sure to lock it behind her. She strode serenely through the thoroughfares of Coruscant, people parting for the strange Jedi. The Council would hear her report, and they would know a Jedi was before them, not that little girl most of them couldn’t care less about, the daughter of a failed Jedi Knight.

Other Jedi even seemed to pause as she moved through the Temple, going straight to the lift that would take her to the High Council chambers. The ride up was silent, the two guards on either side of her apparently hesitant to make any sort of conversation with the vicious renegade. Suited her just fine.

Then… the moment of truth. She stood at the door of the chambers and was admitted to stand before the full Council.

“Knight Revan,” Vrook Lamar was cold, the glare evident on his face.

“Esteemed members of the Council,” Revan sketched the slightest of bows, just enough to be respectful.

“You did not arrive at our previously scheduled meeting. We feared you had gotten lost,” Vrook leaned back in his seat, steepling his hands before him.

“Not lost. Some information came to my attention that I needed to look into.”

“Indeed,” Atris scoffed, “Information involving you directly disobeying our orders and going to the front lines? Where were you on Suurja?”

“I was on Dxun. My lead took me there, and I have discovered a grim truth.”

Master Vandar Tokare lifted a hand to silence the others, “What grim truth was this?”

Revan took a deep breath and began, “I landed on Dxun to determine the extent to which the clans were gathering, and I discovered that extent was the wrong word.”

“What would be the correct word?” Vrook frowned.

“Well, extent indicates that it is a partial gathering. Every single clan with any power, political or military, is on Dxun and gearing up for the fight. As we can see, they have already broken the line at Vanquo, and they will continue to beat us at every turn unless this Order stands up and says no more. We must fight, do you not see that? Our purpose is to defend the Republic, to defend the light… how are we to defend that which will not exist if the Mandalorians have their way. How are we to-”

“That’s quite enough,” Atris’ voice was sharp as the Echani master gazed coolly at Revan, “You have said your piece and we have considered the facts at hand. Your service to the Order had not gone unrecognized, and while your report on what you saw at Onderon and Dxun is, of course, disturbing -- nonetheless, you had no business investigating on your own! We’re still rebuilding our ranks from the last war. We can’t afford this kind of adventurism, even if we were supporting it.”

Vrook stepped in to continue, “And involving other Knights and Padawans in your ‘scouting missions’ was simply beyond reproach! And now we learn that some of them were abducted from Suurja _before_ the surprise attack -- and after you left for Onderon! A refugee who saw it all told us.”

Revan blinked. She’d been informed that they had been taken during the attack, not before… why? Why take them before?

“You will find them and bring them directly back here, no diversion, no delay!” Vrook barked out, “There was no place for the Order in the wrangling over the Outer Rim, and there is certainly no place for it in a wider Mandalorian war!”

Revan seethed, but bowed curtly.

“I will begin my search at once.”

She spun on her heel and stalked out, the cowl masking her facial expressions, a fact she was most grateful for. Maybe she would keep the cowl.

To her annoyance, Lucien Draay and his pack of Seers waited outside.

Lucien grinned, “Well, we meet again.”

Revan moved past, but Lucien placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry we were unable to oblige you on Taris, but I trust you found your investigations enlightening,” he continued, all perfect Jedi platitudes. This must have been the reason for Alek’s intense desire to punch someone while he was on Taris.

“You see that I was right, now, don’t you?” she asked softly, “The truth is written in blood!”

Draay calmly tilted his head, ever so slightly, “I’m sorry -- I’m not sure I know which truth you mean.”

Fuck this man and his fucking politics, honestly.

“Good-bye, Lucien Draay,” she said as she pushed past him, uninterested in continuing this, “I have learners to save. The High Council will see you now…”

She left, cloak swirling about her legs as she stalked out and very pointedly left the Temple. Though she may be a Jedi, she would be damned if she was going to let the Council drag the Republic to its knees.

None of the others were on world, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have allies. She’d just recently received a message from a Senator who was very interested in backing their effort. Usually she’d have sent Meetra to talk, but she was feeling combative and wanted to determine just how much this Senator wanted to help.

Instead of walking all the way to the Senate, she hailed a taxi and sat in silence the entire ride, despite the driver’s attempts to make conversation. They were almost there when the guy finally glanced over his shoulder and hefted one of his four arms over the passenger side seat to gaze at her behind him.

“Look, I can tell something is bothering you, pal. Best to let it out now before chatting up any politicians,” the Besalisk warned.

Revan directed her gaze to him and responded, “Have you ever been so resolutely certain of the right path, but everyone around you tells you it is the wrong path so often that you have no choice but to doubt yourself or double down?”

“Yeah, actually. My ma always said I should be a starship pilot, but I hate space. Taxi driver is what I’m good at for now. Say… you’re one of them Crusaders, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?”

“More power to you, I say. To hell with those fuddies up top, you do what’s best for the people.”

Revan paused and reflected on that for a long moment.

“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

The driver grinned, “Hey, no problem. I’m good at listening and giving advice. It’s why I’m still doing this, good advice gets great tips.”

She chuckled as the taxi landed on the designated Senate landing pad, “I’ll take your word for it.”

She tossed him a credit chit with a wink as she strode off, moving too fast for him to tell her it was too large of an amount. She could hear his laughter behind her.

There was a reception desk in this wing, and the Twi’lek woman behind it looked a bit on the overworked side.

“Greetings, citizen. Do you have an appointment?” she asked, her eyes never leaving her screen.

“I do not, however, Senator Bel Iblis of Corellia requested a meeting with me earlier this week.”

“Senator Bel Iblis…” the woman perused the records and then nodded, reading off the screen, “Here it is, meeting was requested, send right up when they arrive… oh, Master Jedi!”

Revan waved her off, “I am simply a concerned citizen of the Republic.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll let the Senator know you’re on your way up.”

If the waiting area hadn’t been empty, it would have been dead silent now. Jedi didn’t just take meetings with Senators, not unless they were on the Council or represented the Council. For her to declare herself as a citizen and not a Jedi would have drawn quite a lot of stares, but the receptionist clearly wasn’t getting paid enough to care.

Revan moved past the desk and into the lift, letting it whisk her away to the correct floor. It dropped her off on floor eighty-seven at another waiting area. A few people milled here, mostly part of the same delegation. Alderaanian, by the looks of them.

“May I assist you?” the receptionist, this one an elderly human man, asked, peering up at her.

“I have a meeting with Senator Bel Iblis.”

“And you are?”

“Knight Revan of the Jedi Order.”

The Alderaanians were whispering now, glancing between her and each other. Wonderful. Word of this certainly wouldn’t get back to the Council sooner than she’d intended.

“The Senator is finishing up a meeting with Senator Thul of Alderaan, it should only be a few more minutes. Feel free to have a seat.”

Revan nodded once and moved to take a seat, the cowl masking her features and allowing her to look around and eavesdrop as she pleased.

“Are you sure that’s a Jedi? They don’t just wander into Senators’ offices accidentally,” one of the Alderaanians was murmuring to another.

The other one scoffed, “You haven’t heard? That’s the one who has been pushing for the Jedi to join the war, the leader of the ones who got nabbed on Suurja. I’d bet they’re going for political support now, and I think Thul would go for that.”

“Please, Veldris Thul is not one for war.”

“Maybe not, but the constituents are, and you know reelection is coming in less than a year. Imagine being one of the first supporters of the Jedi who will bring the Order to the Republic’s defense. Great for ratings.”

“True.”

Well, at least Revan could count on politicians to act in their own best interest. She supposed that election season was definitely in her favor, then, because she probably couldn’t get most of this done without help in the Senate to smooth the way. If the Jedi wouldn’t help, the politicians certainly would.

“Master Jedi?”

She looked over at the receptionist.

“The Senator will see you now.”

With a curt nod, she rose and strode past the receptionist, who clearly had seen a lot in his time and didn’t look twice as she moved past and into the office beyond.

Senator Eileen Bel Iblis was an older woman with silver hair swept back in a severe bun and rather plain garb compared to some of her colleagues, such as Senator Veldris Thul, who wore her hair in an ostentatious updo and wore bright colors, evocative of some of the birds of her native Alderaan.

“Master Jedi,” Senator Bel Iblis rose, reaching across the desk to firmly shake Revan’s hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope you don’t mind Senator Thul’s presence, she expressed an interest in meeting with you as well, and I thought to save some time.”

“I understand just how precious time can be in the Senate, with the amount of legislative work on your plates,” Revan replied diplomatically, pitching her voice a bit lower for the sake of keeping up this public image Meetra and Kaeden had spent hours crafting.

“Indeed,” Thul smirked, brightly painted lips curling upwards. Bel Iblis wasn’t even remotely fazed.

“I’m glad you understand,” the Corellian Senator inclined her head ever so slightly, a gesture of respect, before continuing, “As you know, the war has reached a new state with the fall of Vanquo and Admiral Veltraa’s retreat to Taris. We need Jedi in the war, now more than ever. Has your Council made any sort of decision?”

“They have. They have elected not to join this conflict, despite the evidence that they are needed.”

“Then why are you here?” Thul drawled, “To tell us that you’re oh so sorry, but you cannot help?”

Revan turned to face the Alderaanian woman and replied, “On the contrary, I am here to inform you that your support would be greatly appreciated if I am to gather those who believe as I do and join this war. With the Council refusing to act, we will need the approval of the Senate to join the front lines in an official capacity.”

Thul’s jaw dropped and she snickered, “Oh, you naughty Jedi! You’re going against your Masters… I love it! Oh, imagine the press releases now, Eileen, they’ll be going on and on about the brave young Jedi who are willing to risk everything, including dismissal from their own Order, to fight and defend the people of the Republic. And if we’re seen openly supporting them, our own ratings will be through the roof.”

Bel Iblis was distinctly not impressed, “Veldris, that cannot seriously be your reasoning. There are people dying, who need us and these Jedi-”

“They’re not my people, Eileen, nor are they yours. This faux outrage will get you nowhere. Look, I’ve got another meeting to attend, comm me with the plan, hmm?”

Thul flounced out and Bel Iblis sighed.

“I apologize for her outburst. I do truly believe that all people of the Republic matter, not just those who I represent. Hells, some of these people don’t have any representation through their own Senators as it is.”

“I understand. I cannot imagine it is easy, being such a staunch champion of the people working in the halls of a corrupt institution.”

Bel Iblis gazed at her for a long moment before laughing, shaking her head, “You are a bold one, aren’t you? I’ll be the first to admit there is corruption rife within these halls, but usually the Jedi don’t involve themselves in such matters.”

“I fancy myself a conscientious citizen of the galaxy. Also, I vote regularly. I’m a big believer in democracy.”

“I see. Well, I’m pleased to say that I’m willing to be your advocate in this so-called corrupt institution. I do have certain stipulations, though.”

Revan leaned back in her seat slightly, eyebrow going up beneath her cowl.

“Oh?”

“There are certain things I expect, and I’ve no doubt Veldris expects them too. I’m sure you know that once we begin this campaign, you will be in the public eye. I’ve no doubt you’ll charm them. Naturally, this will make you a very likeable person as far as the public is concerned, and that means you would be beneficial to certain other campaigns-”

“You want me to show up at campaign events.”

Bel Iblis nodded, “I do. Not too many. Just voice your support, not as a Jedi, but as a citizen and soldier. You’ll have the attention of the people and they will listen.”

“It will depend on the course of the war effort, but if that is your price, so be it.”

“There are other stipulations.”

“By all means.”

“Obviously a certain public image will need to be maintained. You’ve an air of mystery about you, clearly you’ve given this some thought already.”

“Senator,” Revan said plainly, “The only reason I am speaking to you right now is because my comrades and I are ready to take this movement of ours public. We have already begun cultivating the public image of myself and the movement, and we are well aware that a certain level of… decorum is expected. You’ll find that I am perfectly capable of behaving myself in a public setting. Jedi may not be social butterflies, but we’re also not incapable of social graces.”

Bel Iblis gave a small chuckle, “I suppose you are right. So, in exchange for my public support and that of my voting block, you will voice your support of us in the next elections and make sure that your public image is spotless. Does that sound about fair?”

“I should think it does.”

Bel Iblis rose, reaching across the desk to offer her hand. Revan stood as well and accepted the Senator’s hand, pumping it once in a firm handshake before releasing.

“I look forward to a prosperous business relationship, Senator.”

“As do I, Master Jedi.”

Revan left, passing the secretary as she did. The man simply gazed at her as if he was trying to figure out what his boss had agreed to. Best he didn’t know yet.

As Revan walked out of the Senate, she pulled out her commlink and typed in a number she’d memorized long ago.

“ _Surik._ ”

“Em, it’s me. We’re a go on the support.”

“ _It went well?_ ”

“I can’t decide if I sold my soul away or not, but it went well. They support us, we behave ourselves and maybe show up at campaign rallies every so often, as the war effort permits.”

“ _Why do I get the feeling there was a hidden caveat in there?_ ”

“Probably because I do too. But, this is our best shot. Thul seemed like the more trustworthy, actually.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yeah. She was brutally honest about her desire to stay in power, whereas Bel Iblis talked about the people. It’s sad when I trust the powerhungry one more than the supposedly honest one.”

“ _You’re learning. Never trust any politician who says they’re for the people, yet remain in office that long. Nobody is in office that long without corporate support._ ”

“Agreed. I’ll do some research on voting patterns and such, so I can know what to expect in case the media gets any ideas.”

“ _Copy. I’ll send some feelers out on my end, there’s some officers around here who could help. Captain Karath, the one Alek mentioned, he’s here at Serroco and he seems eager for the Jedi to get off their asses and help._ ”

Revan had to dodge a few idiots who were more focused on sightseeing than minding their surroundings as she listened to Meetra.

“Karath, I’ve heard of him. Everything I know about the man says he’s a decent type. See if we can get his support. He’s not unknown by the people, and his support could go a long way among the higher ups in the military.”

“ _Understood. I’ll work on that end. Is there anything else?_ ”

“Keep an ear to the ground for Alek and the others. There’s something more to that situation that we’re just not seeing yet.”

“ _Agreed… oh, damn. I have to go, Rev. Behave yourself. Surik out._ ”

The channel went dead and Revan sighed, tucking the device away once more as she continued to walk back to her shuttle. She really had her work cut out for her this time.


	6. Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Say it once, tell me twice  
> Are you certain I'm alright?  
> Just a sign to remind me  
> Tomorrow's worth the fight  
> Ever changing, the story line that keeps me alive."
> 
> -Miracle, Shinedown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alek finds a singularly shitty hotel that doesn't even serve breakfast, he makes a new friend, and Kaeden regrets being friends with any of them in the first place.

Alek was decidedly not having a good day. Not in the least. He was seriously debating complaining to a manager because the conditions in this hotel were shit. The food was subpar and he was never sure if it was still moving or not, the beds were very threadbare and thin, and the host was just a total jackass.

Of course, he’d meant to keep all that in his head, but Dorven’s almost hysterical laughter meant he’d failed. His filter was getting worse the longer he stayed conscious.

“You tell ‘em, Squint,” Ferroh chuckled weakly, “Give ‘em a one star rating.”

“One star and a call to corporate,” someone else chimed in.

“Nah, go big,” Dorven snickered, “One star, call to corporate, public bitchout of the staff. We don’t half ass anything.”

“I dunno, a public bitchout looks different coming from Rev,” Kaeden chimed in, “She’s fucking tiny. It just looks like a child throwing a tantrum.”

“You’ve clearly never seen her make a grown Weequay three times her size piss himself,” Alek noted, “I have. I damn near pissed my own damned self, not going to lie. She does this thing where she seems to get taller, it’s weird.”

“You sure she wasn’t standing on a crate, brother?” Dorven rolled and then winced as his bandaged ribs protested that.

“Ninety percent certain? I dunno, I was looking for an escape route about as hard as the Weequay was.”

One of the Mandalorians made a comment in Mando’a and Alek stuck his hand in the air to make a crude gesture.

“Get fucked. You’re what’s wrong with this place, honestly. Such shit hospitality for such treasured guests. Which shit manager trained you people, this is atrocious. You say you care, then you just beat us up and leave, kinda like a trashy ex.”

“I see your sense of humor remains undiminished, Squint,” the slimy voice of Doctor Demagol issued from the doorway to the mad scientist’s lab. And yeah, slimy was the only word Alek could think of to describe the man right now.

“It’s going to take a lot more than you to change that,” Alek replied, “Who booked the next appointment?”

“Wasn’t me,” Kaeden called out.

“I’m tapping out,” Dorven muttered, trying to adjust and be nice to his ribs. Alek was pretty sure the one was broken and testing his lung at this point. They liked to kick him.

Ferroh shook his head, “I’d volunteer, but I still can’t feel my legs.”

Alek chuckled, “Hell, I’ll do it. Not like I got any hair left to lose.”

“She’s gonna be mad about that,” Ferroh snickered, “She likes your hair.”

“I know. I’m going to get yelled at in new and interesting ways. Makes Doc here seem like a cakewalk.”

“Well, seeing as you’re so well recovered,” Demagol was smirking under that helm, Alek was sure of it. His guards grabbed Alek and hauled him into the lab, trussing him up again.

_I am one with the Force and the Force is with me._

_I am one with the Force and the Force is with me._

_I am one with the Force and the Force is with me._

_But fucking hells does this hurt._

The rest of his session passed in a blur and in short order he found himself tossed back in with the others.

“Squint!” he heard Ferroh call out as a few Jedi rushed to help him.

“No worries, guys,” he rasped, “I’m a bit taller, that’s all.”

“What… what did he do to you?” a female voice gasped.

He chuckled, “Nothing I can’t handle. There are better vacation spots in the galaxy, though.”

Hands helped him sit up and he hissed in pain, clutching his ribs. Great, now he probably had a broken one, too. He looked over at his helper and found one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. She was slim, bruised and a bit ragged, but Alek still thought she was gorgeous. Long white hair, pale skin, blue tattoos. Honestly, if Alek wasn’t a taken guy, public knowledge or otherwise, he’d probably have tried his luck.

“You’re new,” he managed to say. Why was he such an idiot? ‘You’re new’? Yeah, no shit, Captain Obvious.

“Jarael,” she introduced herself, “And I’m not supposed to be here.”

“That goes double for-”

“A fresh arrival!”

Goddamn Demagol’s smarmy ass, honestly. Couldn’t he see Alek was trying to make a friend? Greedy bastard.

“You are most welcome here, my dear woman,” the doctor loomed over them. Alek was now one hundred percent sure the fucker was smirking under the helm. “I have an endless supply of theories about Jedi abilities -- yet I keep running out of Jedi. Join me, won’t you?”

“Demagol, wait!” Alek protested, struggling to rise, “Leave her. I’ll go.”

Demagol shook his head, “Squint, you know you’re my favorite. But this is rude to our new guest.”

“Take me. I insist. I must have some ability you haven’t discovered yet.”

Jarael grabbed his hand, “What are you doing? You can barely stand!”

“These are trials only a Jedi can survive, Jarael,” he murmured to her, “And I think we both know I’m the only Jedi in this conversation.”

“How did you know--?” she asked.

“Because we do have some abilities they have yet to discover. Maybe that’ll be their undoing,” he replied as the guards dragged him off. He could hear Kaeden shouting after him, but he ignored him in favor of bracing for round whatever of this bullshit.

He was in there for a while, evidently, because the guards had changed shift when he was thrown back out. Jarael grabbed hold of him, helping him roll over to a somewhat more decent position.

“Morning, Jarael. We have to stop meeting like this,” he murmured to her, weakly chuckling.

“You can’t let them keep torturing you. We’ve got to get you out of here before they kill you!” she protested, worry creasing her lovely features.

“Do Arkanians fascinate you too, Squint?” Demagol’s voice intruded once again on a private conversation. Such an inconsiderate host. “So loving of science -- and so willing to use it. You might close an unproductive mine. An ancient Arkanian breeds new workers with human hands, to reach more gems. It’s hard to say what a true Arkanian is, anymore. These eyes -- these…”

Demagol had grabbed Jarael by the hair, pulled her back to face him, and he seemed interested by her delicately pointed ears.

“ _Osi’kyr_!” the mad scientist murmured, “This is interesting. Yes, definitely the girl next, guard --”

A new voice entered the playing field, bellowing, “Demagol! I’ve got your next subject.”

“Do not bother me with younglings, warrior,” Demagol sneered at the Jedi the new Mandalorian was dragging in.

“He’s a Knight, all right. Nearly broke my neck stopping him. Set him up, Doc -- I want to see him hurt. Bad.”

Alek was starting to zone out when he heard Jarael hiss, “Zayne!”

Zayne? Wait, was that-

“In time, warrior,” Demagol was saying, “I have plans for the young lady first.”

“I’ve got a war to get back to. We do this now!” the new warrior was snarling, shaking his captive by the arm.

“Very well, then,” Demagol sighed, “To the laboratory.”

When they were out of earshot, Alek turned to Jarael.

“Zayne?” he whispered, “Zayne Carrick?”

“You know him?” she whispered back.

“We met on Taris a few weeks ago, just before we set out. Our Masters knew each other. You know him?”

“You’re not up on current events, are you?”

“Been a little busy -- and busier still before that. I guess he made Knight. I’m sorry to see him here. I’ve seen that Mandalorian before, too…”

“He seemed so strange. He acted like he didn’t even see us.”

“He sees, all right. Something’s up,” Alek groaned as he let himself fall to the floor.

“You dead yet?” Dorven called out, “I want your photography collection, it looks amazing.”

“Fuck you, picking through the remains of my sad life already,” Alek retorted, “I’m leaving that to Meetra. She’d put it to good use.”

“What about any dirty mags?”

“If there are any leftover from my Padawan years, those are Kaeden’s. He could use them.”

“Hey!” Kaeden protested before coughing, “Listen here, you bastard!”

Ferroh was laughing, “Honestly, it’s true.”

“... traitor.”

It wasn’t long before Demagol and his warrior friend reappeared, talking.

“Too bad, Demagol. I thought he’d live longer. I must have beaten most of the life out of him on his ship,” the warrior chuckled.

“No!” Alek gasped, struggling to sit up.

“Animal!” Jarael shrieked, launching herself at Demagol and wrapping her hands around his neck.

“Stay back!” the warrior shouted, “I’ll handle this! We’ve got to preserve the specimens!”

Demagol struggled for a moment, but suddenly Jarael’s face morphed into an expression of shock and she reared back, falling into Alek.

The warrior helped the scientist up and Demagol brushed himself off.

“I’d like to watch you deal with her later, Demagol,” the warrior chuckled, “Now, how about that tour of camp you promised?”

“What -- what happened?” Alek asked Jarael in a quiet tone, “You had him!”

“I… heard something,” she murmured in response, looking mildly shell shocked. Something was definitely up and Alek wasn’t sure he was going to like it.

Jarael looked like she was trying to figure it out when explosions started echoing and the guards went crazy, rushing out.

“Rescue?” Dorven asked hopefully, lifting a hand, “All in favor of rescue?”

Every single hand went up, except Kaeden.

“Nah, you all apparently hate me more than the Doc, so I’ll try my luck,” he snarked. Alek rolled his eyes.

“You big baby.”

Demagol burst back in, followed by the warrior. Ferroh shot up, snarling.

“They all left! What’s going on here --”

“Just trying out a few mining charges we found…” Demagol seemed smug as he raised one hand to remove the helm, a commlink in his other hand. “I don’t know, but I think they worked! I think we can knock off the fireworks now, ‘Glomkettle’! What kind of name is Glomkettle, anyway?”

The helm came off to reveal Zayne Carrick and the look of relief on Jarael’s face made Alek grin a little.

“Watch it, henchman!” a cheerful voice replied over the comm. “That’s my mother’s name! Aren’t you glad you have access to my genius?”

“Wait until dark again and come on over, ‘Admiral’. We’re going to need some help…”

The rest of the day was a blur to Alek, spent kitting out in spacesuits with visors that the mining ship Zayne arrived on apparently had to spare. There was enough for everyone, which was a fact that both impressed and confused Alek, but he wasn’t going to ask about it. He was feeling a bit better without Demagol’s attentions and he reached out in the Force.

_Rev?_

Within seconds, her response almost floored him, sending him staggering.

_Alek!_

_Rev, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you again. Been a hell of a few weeks, I’ll tell you that._

_The others, are they…?_

_Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it when we get back._

Worry, joy, relief all flooded across their reopened bond and he grinned up at the others who peered at him with concern in their eyes.

“She’s happy we’re alright,” he explained. The others laughed. Dorven was grinning like a madman as Kaeden supported him.

“Course she is,” he slurred, the pain meds they’d managed to get him kicking in, “She’s gonna be mad though.”

“Why?” Alek frowned.

“Hair,” Dorven poked his now-hairless head. Alek laughed.

“Hey, she’ll still have my ass.”

“Lucky bitch,” Dorven whined. Kaeden dragged him away.

“Listen, you drunk bastard…”

“‘M not drunk.”

“Certainly acting like it.”

Jarael was smirking at him when he turned to her.

“Got someone special, huh?” she smiled.

“Eh… something like that. She’s certainly something.”

“She’s basically your girlfriend, Alek,” Ferroh laughed, “Just call it what it is.”

“Well… partner might be the more accurate term, pal. She’s not exactly a girl.”

Ferroh blinked, processed, and then grinned wider than before. “My bad. Partner, then. Still, you two are cute.”

“Don’t start. Please. The others already torment me!”

“Torment you about what?” Zayne asked, striding over with his Mando friend.

“Nothing!” Alek said quickly, shaking his head. Ferroh was laughing outright now.

Alek made himself scarce as Zayne’s comrade arrived in a shuttle wearing Republic livery, which only increased the number of questions he had about this whole situation, and they got to work loading the wounded. As the last were loaded aboard, he turned to find Ferroh handing a lightsaber to Zayne, probably the young Knight’s own blade, and he stepped over as Ferroh walked away.

“If you’ve got some more of those charges, Zayne, we’re going to blow this installation when we leave. Bad memories here.”

He turned to see the Mando warrior dragging Demagol out and continued, “We’d like to leave you here for that, Demagol, but I think we’ll enjoy taking you with us more. It’s a long flight to Coruscant…”

Alek noticed that the scientist seemed limp, like a noodle that Revan had left in the water for way too long again.

“What’s the matter with him?” he asked.

“He’s… still out of it. I was forced to strike him again while getting him suited up,” the warrior explained. Alek shrugged.

“That’s a shame. Shame I wasn’t there, I mean… Well, you, I can promise some better accommodations. A Mandalorian turncoat! Will wonders never cease? I’m sure with what you know, you can be a big help on Coruscant, too.”

Maybe with an actual Mandalorian telling them what was happening, the Council would listen. Here’s to hoping.

“That’s not really what I --” the warrior seemed hesitant, and Alek didn’t blame him. It was a big deal, turning on your own like that.

Zayne looked over, “Rohlan, you can’t stay here. Mand’alor will find you again. And we’re kind of on the run. You don’t want to be tied up with us. Besides, I’ll bet Demagol can give you some of the answers you’re looking for. And if we destroy the installation, that might cover your escape. It’s a chance to stop running. I know I’d take it.”

Rohlan paused for a long moment, apparently contemplating, before replying, “I suppose you’re right. I’ll board and tend to Demagol.”

“Not even a good-bye,” Zayne muttered as the warrior stalked off.

“Mandalorians. Who can figure them?”

Well, he could, but really only the one and even then, only half the time.

“Actually, Zayne,” he turned back to the younger Jedi, “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Everything my Master foresaw about the Mandalorians was true. They have all the force they need to overrun the Republic. We saw the ships with our own eyes.”

“Where is your Master? I didn’t see --”

Alek waved him off, “Left to investigate another vision, just before we got nabbed. This one pointed to Dxun, where the Sith War Mand’alor fell years ago. Maybe Dxun represented the Mandalorians in general -- or maybe something worse. The important thing now is to warn the Order and the Republic.”

Zayne looked worried, “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

“What do you mean by -- No. We’re too late…”

A sinking dread was creeping in, and Alek wondered if all this had been for nothing.

“I’m afraid so,” Zayne frowned, “The ships you saw could be halfway to Taris by now.”

“So the real war’s on,” Alek murmured, resigned, before he turned his gaze to the stars, “So be it.”

He returned his attention to Zayne and continued, “Listen, I don’t know what assignment you were on here, Zayne, but we could use your help. My Master has a plan to defeat the Mandalorians, fast -- but there are risks. Serious risks. But after this, a lot of us here are ready to do anything. Will you come with us?”

Zayne looked pensive before he shook his head.

“I can’t. There’s something I have to do -- or finish doing. Just do me a favor, okay? When you get back, if you hear anything about me -- just remember what I did here.”

That was an extremely odd request.

“I… sure, Zayne. Whatever you want,” he grinned, reaching out to clap a hand on the younger Jedi’s shoulder. “May the Force be with you.”

“Yeah. We’ll see how that goes,” Zayne replied, almost glumly.

Alek turned and strode over to where Jarael was standing by the ship the Jedi were taking.

“Sun’s rising again in a few minutes. I guess this is goodbye,” she said. “I don’t know what your plans are, but they sound pretty dangerous. Good luck out there, Squint.”

He chuckled, “Oh, that’s just a name the guys made up. My last name’s a bit of a mouthful. Next time we meet, Jarael… just call me Alek. Thanks for the spacesuit, by the way. This is a lot easier on the eyes out here…”

He strode up the ramp, sealing the visor of the helm as he turned back to grin at Jarael.

He headed for the cockpit, where Kaeden had the helm.

“We’re ready for liftoff, Squint,” he reported.

“Good. Get me the hell off this planet.”

Kaeden gave a sloppy salute and began the takeoff procedure, making sure to keep the ship extra stable, seeing as how Aldra Sharen was the healer who had been on their mission and she was known for her foul temper when her patients got thrown around. At least the worst offender was unconscious in the hold.

“You should get some rest,” Kaeden looked back as he primed the hyperdrive.

“I’m good.”

“Alek.”

Oh, he was using that tone now, huh?

“Kaeden.”

Two could play that game, buster.

The other man rolled his eyes, “Look, I get it. You’re wired up as hell right now. You also took the worst beating out of any of us in that lab. Go talk to Aldra and then get some rest. You look like shit. Also, you’re bleeding in that suit and that’s a bitch to clean.”

Alek frowned, reaching up and thwacking the faceplate. He’d left the helmet on. Cursing, he removed it and then tried to figure out if Kaeden was telling the truth. His fingers came away red.

“Told you.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to Aldra. I’m not gonna be gone long, though. Just until we get back to Republic space.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a certain insincere nature to Kaeden’s words that promised he wouldn’t see Alek for at least a standard day. Alek shrugged and turned to head to the hold where Aldra was tending to her patients. The Twi’lek woman looked up when he approached and scowled.

“I wondered when you would grace me with your presence. Honestly, you are an idiot,” she scolded him, “Now get out of that damn thing so I can give you a proper look over.”

“If you wanted me out of my clothes, all you had to do was ask,” he shot back. She rolled her eyes.

“As if that would happen. You men find yourselves so attractive when frankly nobody else does. I have no idea what Revan sees in you, but I struggle to understand any male-attracted person.”

Alek rolled his eyes, “Coulda just said so.”

Aldra fixed him with what was probably the most irritated look in her repertoire.

“Excuse me for trying to keep you talking with an obvious concussion.”

There was a weak chuckle from the other side of the hold.

“Good luck with that,” Dorven snickered, “He’s not a people person.”

“Evidently.”

Aldra examined the head wound first, muttering in Huttese under her breath as she poked and prodded. The rest of his wounds received the same treatment, but then she pulled back.

“I’m going to be entirely honest, I have no idea what Demagol did to you or what the long-term effects will be. I’d recommend seeing a doctor as soon as possible, preferably one experienced in this sort of thing. I can draft up a list of recommendations when we return to Coruscant. Yes, I’m saying the same thing to the others, but you were a favorite of his. I couldn’t begin to fathom what he did to you.”

Alek gave a light shrug, “I suppose only time will tell, seeing as how I was barely coherent for the real fun. I’ll pick one of your doctors to see. I’m not so stupid as to go against healer’s advice.”

“That makes one of your little group. Tell Kaeden I expect him down here at some point. In the meantime, get some sleep. I can provide a sedative if needed. I will not be taking no for an answer, though, you need sleep. You look like shit.”

As always, her bedside manner was impeccable.

“Yes ma’am.”

He wandered through the crowd until he managed to find some free crates to sit on and ended up falling asleep propped against the wall on top of a crate of what was either rations or weapons, given this was a Republic vessel.

He woke up to the ship shuddering as it dropped out of hyperspace and he was on his feet, headed for the cockpit. Ferroh was at the controls now, and Coruscant was looming large.

“Wanna take this call?” he asked Alek, gesturing at the blinking comm light.

“Sure.”

He toggled the comms on and listened.

“ _Republic shuttle Delta-Six-One-Bee, this is Coruscant Orbital Traffic Control, transmit clearance codes._ ”

“Coruscant Tee-See, this is shuttle Delta-Six-One-Bee. We, uh… don’t have codes. We’re recently escaped prisoners of war, returning home.”

There was silence before Traffic Control came back.

“ _Son, let me explain something to you. Coruscant is restricted air space, you can’t just fly willy-nilly in here and-_ ”

“You can contact the Jedi Council. We’re all Jedi. We were on Suurja.”

“ _Suurja? You’re the ones from Suurja? Hey, Taxen, get the Jedi on the comms, now!_ ”

It took several minutes before a new voice joined the conversation and Alek almost sobbed in relief when he heard it. He could tell Ferroh was getting emotional too.

“ _Shuttle Delta-Six-One-Bee, this is Jedi Master Vima Sunrider. Who am I speaking with?_ ”

“Master Sunrider, it’s Alek. Ferroh is here flying. It’s… blast, it’s good to hear your voice, Master.”

“ _Oh, Alek… I’m so glad to hear you, and to know that you’re all safe… welcome home. Land at the Temple, we’ll be waiting. Sunrider out._ ”

The channel closed and Alek ran his hand down his face.

“We’re home, Ferroh.”

He stood up and stuck his head into the back area and bellowed, “We’re home!”

The cheers that emitted from the hold area warmed his heart, just a bit, and there was a rush of Jedi grinning and hugging each other.

Landing was a blur, Alek was helping everyone make sure they had the wounded ready for transport and that everyone was ready to go.

“We’re down!” Ferroh called out, stepping into the hold as the ramp went down.

For the first time in months, the Jedi who had been on Suurja stepped out into the glare of Coruscant’s sun and were welcomed home.

Master Sunrider was foremost among the welcoming committee, a smile on her face. Her mother, Nomi, wasn’t too far behind.

“Alek,” a familiar voice called out as Zhar Lestin strode over, “I knew you’d return to us.”

“You always did say to have faith in the Force, and it paid off.”

“How did you escape?”

“The Force sent us an ally. Do you remember Zayne Carrick, Master Draay’s Padawan? He faked being captured so he could break us out, and his friend. He’s a real hero.”

Something dark crossed Zhar’s face, but it disappeared quickly as he looked over Alek’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t take up too much more of your time,” he noted impishly.

Alek went to ask him what he meant, but turned and saw someone standing there. Revan had her hood down and she wore standard robes, which were unusual for her, but everything else wasn’t. Her hair was still braided as always and she wore a look of such relief on her face. As Zhar stepped away, she started moving towards him, and he met her halfway, lifting her in a tight embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder.

“I was so worried,” she murmured, “I thought… when the bond went silent, I thought you had died, or…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he replied softly, “I’m here now. I promised not to die, didn’t I? Meetra wouldn’t approve.”

If Revan’s laugh sounded a little choked up, well, who could blame her? Her other half had returned.


	7. Rebel Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And it gets lonely when you live out loud,  
> When the truth that you seek isn't in this crowd.  
> You better find your voice, better make it loud.  
> We've gotta burn that fire or we'll just burn out."
> 
> -Rebel Beat, The Goo Goo Dolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fuck the Council. All my homies hate the Council." -Revan, probably at some point
> 
> The squad makes a drinking game out of a talk show, plan a very open form of rebellion, and Alek makes a new friend.
> 
> (also, side note, if anyone can help me figure out how to put a Spotify playlist at like the bottom of the chapter or something, you'll be my new favorite. I may even be inclined to give a nod to a character or some shit, I'm desperate here. Hard to have a playlist when you can't add it to the story)

_“With the triumphant return of the Jedi who were captured on Suurja and the rumors of a meeting between the leader of those Jedi and Senator Eileen Bel Iblis of Corellia, rumors are swirling as to what these brave souls will do next. Koren, what do you think?”_

_“Well, Lilia, I think that these Jedi are far from done, regardless of what the Jedi Council says. As you are no doubt aware, the Jedi Council this morning issued an official statement basically putting into words what we all have suspected for a long time, that they will not be getting involved and that any Jedi who are involved are effectively renegades, not unlike the young former Padawan Zayne Carrick, wanted for the murders of four other Padawans on Taris, a world that has since fallen to the Mandalorians. They haven’t outright declared these Jedi to be renegades, mind you, but I think they’re close.”_

_“I wholeheartedly concur on that last point, Koren. And with us tonight to discuss the Jedi involvement in the war is Admiral Forn Dodonna, one of the Navy’s most decorated admirals. Welcome to Coruscant Tonight, Admiral. We’re honored to have you.”_

_“Thank you. I’m honored to be here.”_

_“Now, I wanted to clear something up for the public, as there are a few questions. Rumor has it that your very own niece is a Jedi, is that correct?”_

_“It is, Lilia.”_

_“And she is one of these Crusaders?”_

_“Yes, she is. I’ve long advocated for Jedi joining the war and when she told me there was a group that felt the same within the Order, I asked if she could introduce me to the leaders.”_

_“So, you’ve met the mysterious Crusader leader?”_

_“I have. They’re very… straightforward. I can safely say the Council does not like them at all.”_

“That’s certainly not a lie.”

“Shhh!” Meetra hissed, throwing a pillow at Alek. The two of them, along with Revan and Bastila, were crowded onto the small couch. Dorven and Kaeden were sitting on the floor, which Dorven had professed was nicer on his still-healing ribs anyway. In front of each of the adults was a tray lined with shots of Corellian whiskey. Bastila had muja juice, they weren’t about to encourage alcoholism in a teenager.

_“I can imagine not!”_ Lilia, the pretty Togruta host of the talk show seemed unusually interested tonight. She didn’t usually like talk of war and such. That was more her Zabrak cohost Koren’s forte.

Koren seemed amused, _“You have to admit, I doubt anyone would like an incendiary revolutionist in their ranks.”_

“For the revolution!” the group shouted as they downed their first shots.

Dodonna nodded on the screen, _“It’s certainly not desirable in the Navy as well, but right now these brave Jedi are what we need. I’ve actually spoken with their leader very recently, after their comrades returned from Mandalorian imprisonment, and they told me the resolve of the group has only strengthened. They’re ready to fight, they just need the support. The Council won’t give that to them.”_

_“I would imagine not,”_ Koren frowned, _“But, it seems the Council is falling behind the times. Their response to the Taris Padawan Massacre was a masterpiece of ineptness and failures. Not only did they not investigate fully, the five Masters who were there were allowed to return to full duty almost immediately after Carrick escaped custody, and then when a number of their own were captured they did nothing!”_

There was silence as the second shots were downed. Kaeden coughed slightly this time.

_“You’ll find the public to be in full agreement,”_ Lilia nodded, _“In fact, public opinion of the Jedi Order as a whole has dropped to just thirty-two percent, and opinion of the Council specifically is at an all time low at only seventeen percent. The majority of Republic citizens have expressed their lack of confidence in the Order and how it has handled things. In fact, there have already been protests here on Coruscant in the wake of the public statement this morning.”_

The third shots were knocked back with a cry of “For the people!”.

_“I actually passed by one of those protests on the way here,”_ Dodonna noted, _“And, if you’ll excuse the comments of a personal nature, I agree with them. That isn’t a Navy policy, that’s just my own. It always warms my heart to see the people of the Republic standing up for what they believe in. That’s why we serve them.”_

_“A noble sentiment, Admiral. To be honest, I’m surprised we haven’t seen any of the Jedi there,”_ Koren leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk in front of him on the screen. He seemed oddly interested in that.

_“How do you know? Jedi don’t just wander about wearing their robes all the time. There could very well have been plainclothes Jedi involved,”_ Lilia pointed out.

“Take a shot if you’re a plainclothes Jedi,” Revan called out and pointedly downed a shot. After a few moments, Bastila did too, which caused the others to gape.

“You?” Kaeden looked aghast.

“You do know that I’m all but a part of your merry little band, right? I wanted to see what they were talking about and, uh… I may have agreed to help arrange a protest in front of the Temple.”

“Bastila, you’re fifteen, for fuck’s sake!” Alek turned to face her, curled into his side as she was. She’d been hesitant to let him leave for too long after he’d returned. She’d been weird around all of them.

“They don’t exactly know that… I’m pretty sure they think I’m at least twenty.”

“I’ll help,” Meetra offered, checking her datapad, “As it happens, that might be a good time for an idea my aunt had.”

“An idea?” Revan frowned.

“Tell you later,” Meetra waved her off as they all returned their attention to the show.

_“-Bel Iblis has confirmed that the meeting took place, but has refused to say with which Jedi. It could have very well been the mysterious leader, reports indicate the Jedi’s face was hidden by their cowl. They likely didn’t want the Council to know who it was.”_

_“Honestly, Lilia, this Jedi could have been three Jawas in a trench coat and they’d still be doing a better job then the Council right now!”_ Koren retorted.

“I am now three Jawas in a trenchcoat, that is how you will refer to me!” Revan declared. Alek almost fell over laughing. Meetra gave a very long-suffering sigh.

_“That’s not entirely fair, Koren.”_

_“It’s plenty fair from where I’m standing. I had a cousin on Suurja, haven’t heard from him in weeks. The Jedi who were captured there did a hell of a lot more for those people than the Council ever has.”_

Silent shots were taken at that, Dorven grimacing as he tried to breathe while swallowing and almost choking.

Dodonna cut in, _“And that’s why the military is willing to consider working with these Crusaders. They’ve been on the front lines, they know what’s coming.”_

“Been talking with your auntie again, huh Em?” Dorven teased. Meetra kicked him lightly. He had made the mistake of sitting in front of her, so it was fair game.

_“We’ll need a lot more than a few Jedi if we’re going to win this,”_ Koren noted, _“I mean no offense to you and your esteemed colleagues, Admiral, but so far, standard Republic strategy is failing. Just look at what happened to poor Admiral Veltraa.”_

“For the fallen!” the group murmured as yet another shot was downed. Alek was starting to feel the buzz now, he honestly didn’t want to know where Revan had gotten this stuff from.

_“No offense taken, Koren. I know our strategies are falling short. We’ve never faced an opponent as ruthless as the Mandalorians before. They don’t follow conventional military strategy and courtesies, and we’ve been trained to deal with that, not with the tactics the Mandos prefer. Unfortunately, we just don’t know enough about their mindset to effectively combat them.”_

“They would if they asked me,” Revan muttered.

_“Is there any way to learn more about the mindset?”_ Lilia asked. Dodonna shook her head.

_“Unfortunately not, Lilia. We would require prisoners of a somewhat cooperative nature and we only have Doctor Demagol in custody, who has remained comatose due to his own actions. Mandalorians will do anything to avoid being taken prisoner. Historians and sociologists and other esteemed members of the scientific communities have been stumped for years when it comes to understanding the Mandalorian people. We barely have an understanding of their language.”_

“Again, they would if they asked me.”

“Yeah, but you don’t exactly make your heritage public, Rev. Now shush,” Meetra hissed. Bastila looked up from tapping away on her datapad, but didn’t say anything.

Lilia frowned, _“Has the military done any sort of debrief with the rescued Jedi? They were in Mandalorian custody for weeks, they may have learned something.”_

_“The Jedi Council has asked that we allow those Jedi to heal from their ordeal and we’ve agreed to that request. Should any of them volunteer that information, we will gladly accept it.”_

Koren looked at something off screen and blinked, _“Goodness, we’ve been so caught up in conversation we’ve lost track of time, and we’re almost out of it. Before we say our goodbyes for the night, is there anything you wished to say to the people of the Republic, Admiral?”_

_“There is, actually,”_ Dodonna straightened in her seat, _“These are trying times for all of us, regardless of where you’re from, who you are, or what you are. We need to band together to face this threat as one unified people. I ask that every citizen of the Republic looks in their mirrors tonight and asks themselves what they’re willing to do to defend their homes. Even if it’s something as simple as volunteering, every last bit counts. We need each other, now more than ever. We can win this, but it will take all of us to do it.”_

_“A message of unity and hope if there ever was one,”_ Lilia smiled, _“Thank you, Admiral Dodonna, for joining us tonight. This has been Coruscant Tonight.”_

The channel switched to some inane product someone was selling and the group turned to each other as Bastila’s datapad chimed.

“Are you messaging your protestor buddies?” Dorven teased, “Are any of them cute?”

“Well, one just said her mom might not let her go to the next one, so I think they’re a bit young for you,” Bastila shot back.

“Ah, the youth of the Republic, as fired up as ever.”

“We’re technically still youth, dumbass,” Kaeden muttered.

Revan leaned across Alek to see Bastila’s datapad and he found himself trying to become one with the couch because she was very close. Idly, he wondered whose idea it was to bring liquor into this before he remembered the culprit was the one leaning over him.

“So, you think they’ll be down for a rally in front of the Temple?” Revan asked.

Bastila looked up, blinking when she found Revan almost nose to nose with her.

“Um, yes? They’ll need some organizing.”

“If you can set it up, I’ll speak.”

The entire room fell silent.

“You’ll… what?” Meetra gaped.

“I’ll speak. Rallies need speakers, right? Like, to set the mood? I’ll do it. Can’t be that hard.”

Meetra sat silently for several long seconds and then reached forward to shove Revan off the couch and into Kaeden’s lap, the man protesting as he almost spilled his drink.

“The hell?” Revan looked up at Meetra, frowning.

“I thought it was going to take me several hours and a good deal of bribery to get you to do this, and you just up and volunteer!”

“This was your idea?” Bastila asked.

“Yes! This was the idea Aunt Forn had, which was brilliant and I agreed to talk you into it, but you just… why did you volunteer?”

Revan smirked, “Because the Council now knows I met with Senator Bel Iblis and when have you ever known me to half ass a job?”

“Well, spite is as good a motivator as any,” Alek shrugged.

“No, it most certainly is not,” Meetra sighed, “But in this case, I’ll take it.”

She was pinching the bridge of her nose and looked like she had a migraine, which was a pretty ordinary look for Meetra, honestly. This crew could be a lot to handle.

Bastila was smiling as she read her incoming messages. “They’re absolutely down to do the rally. They can have it organized by the end of the week.”

“So, I have a few days to lay low and not attract attention, huh? Are they doing any more protests in the near future? I might hit those up, get a feel for the crowd,” Revan was now apparently entirely invested in this idea.

Alek leaned over and murmured into Meetra’s ear, “This isn’t going to end well.”

The Chandrilan sighed, “When does it ever with her?”

This led to a three day span of Bastila helping to plan a rally under the radar of both the Jedi Council and the Coruscant Security Force, Meetra writing a speech with Revan’s input, Kaeden and Dorven running interference by being themselves in very public places, Alek making sure Revan didn’t get into too much trouble, and Revan doing what she did best.

Which was, unfortunately, finding as much trouble as humanly possible.

Also running against the group was the sudden media fascination with any Jedi they found and asking their opinions. Two days after Dodonna’s appearance on Coruscant Tonight, he found himself being cornered at a diner he frequented in the Senate district.

“Excuse me, Master Jedi?” a very young voice asked behind him as he finished paying for his food.

He turned and had to look down at a Chadra-Fan. She was young and definitely looked like a student.

“Um, hi? How can I help you?”

She smiled, “My name is Tascha, I’m with the Daily Gazette, the student-run news organization at Coruscant University.”

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Tascha,” Alek gave a brief nod before frowning, “You’re here to ask me about the Crusaders, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely!” she chirped. Alek wished he had half her energy, and he honestly was probably only a couple years older than her.

“Wanna sit? I managed to sneak away for lunch and I want to make the most of it before they find out,” he gestured to a booth nearby as the employee behind the counter brought him his food.

“Sure!”

He sat down and she sat across from him. He’d ordered probably the most Corellian thing on the menu, a Coronet City special, but this was what he came here for. Fried tubers, nerf sausage patties, flatcakes, and obviously gravy all over it. That reminded him, he ought to drop by Corellia some point soon. Their swoop circuits were marginally better than Coruscant and he was a fan of their boloball team, not that he would ever tell Dorven or Kaeden that.

Tascha pulled out a datapad and then looked up at him.

“So, you’re a Jedi Knight?”

“I am, yeah.”

“Any view on the Crusaders?”

“Wow, you’re getting right to the chase, huh?”

She frowned, “And you’re avoiding the question.”

Alek resisted the urge to squirm in his seat, “Alright, off the record here, I… I actually am a Crusader.”

She blinked, opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again for several long moments before she blurted, “What, seriously?”

“Yeah, I am. Why do you think I’m trying to avoid being noticed? The Council is keeping a close eye on all of us.”

Tascha smiled, “Well, in that case… I definitely want to know more.”

It seemed the reputation this particular university got was right. Rebels and those willing to push every boundary to do the right thing… coincidentally, Bastila’s new friends as a rule attended the university. Some attended local secondary schools in the area.

Alek paused in his shovelling of food into his face, as he had forgotten to eat breakfast this morning thanks to Revan and her… everything. Especially her notions of not getting going at a decent hour because she got distracted too easily.

“Uh… sure? I’m going to get chewed out over this, but I plan to be offworld by next week, so if you can hold off publishing until the rally…”

Shit, he’d said too much. Her face lit up.

“You know about the rally? Wait, do you know Bas?”

“Uh, yeah. Since she was a kid. Wait, how do you know her?” he blinked.

“We’ve been organizing it.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised a journalist is involved.”

She placed one of her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her upturned palm, spinning her stylus in her free hand.

“So, you know about the rally, you know Bas, and you’re someone important enough the Council is keeping an eye on you. Could I get a name, mystery guy?”

“Alek. Or Squint, if you’re the other idiots in our merry band of chaos creators and hell raisers.”

“Squint? Interesting nickname. Where’s it from?”

Alek chuckled, “I’m from Quelii, we don’t have last names there. So, Republic Immigration Authority jotted down my village name as my surname and… well… exactly three people can pronounce that in my friend circle, so they just started calling me Squint.”

“Quelii, huh? Must have been the Mandos… my condolences,” she murmured, the stylus halting for a moment.

“It was a long time ago. What we do now is for everyone, not just those directly affected by past actions.”

“I can tell. So, Alek of Quelii, how’d you become a Crusader?”

He looked around and lowered his voice before telling her, “I’ve known our fearless leader since we first arrived on Dantooine. When they told me they wanted to join the fight, I volunteered. Can’t let them have all the fun.”

The group had agreed that referring to Revan in neutral pronouns in public settings would go a long way towards masking her identity. She’d also taken a liking to them recently, telling the others that she didn’t mind if they used them all the time, but she was still okay with using feminine pronouns too. She’d been out as nonbinary for a few years now, but hadn’t quite settled on pronouns that felt comfortable. He was glad she was starting to find ones she preferred.

“I can imagine. Ride or die together, right?”

Alek chuckled, “Absolutely. Bas is the youngest of our group, and the only one not actively going to war. We don’t want to drag a teenager to war.”

“Teenager? Isn’t she… she’s not twenty, is she?” Tascha looked highly amused.

“Nope. Fifteen. Just a few months shy of sixteen.”

“And she’s organizing most of the rally… wow.”

“Yeah, she spent a lot of time around better influences, that’s for sure. Her Master is also a stickler for doing it by the book.”

Tascha smiled, “That sounds like Bas. I really thought she was older though, wow. So, she’s a Crusader too? Fun. It sounds like you have a core group.”

“We do. Fearless leader, my idiot roommate, our very well put together teenage friend, an equally well put together Consular and clearly one of the better influences of our group, and the local grump. You’ll excuse the anonymity, I hope, we just don’t like putting our names out there for the Council to yell at us about.”

“I totally understand.”

Alek breathed a silent sigh of relief and then leaned forward, polishing off the last of his food before speaking again, “So, what do you want to know about us?”

“Do you know any of the Suurja survivors?”

“I do. It was… a rough time for us.”

“Us?”

“I was one of them,” Alek explained, “Two dozen of us were captured and it was… brutal. Some are still recovering and I think at least two are still in medical.”

“I’m sorry. Did… did you lose anyone?”

“We lost a couple to injuries when we returned… like I said, it was brutal. We’re still gathering ourselves in the aftermath, and keeping our heads down.”

“I understand,” Tascha nodded, “You know, the public would very much like to get to know all of you better. I know you want to keep your heads down until the rally, so… why don’t I give you my business number? You can hang on to it until after you’re off world post-rally and then we can talk more. I know you guys have Senator Bel Iblis’ support, which means a lot to the students at Coruscant University, we’re big supporters of hers. Hell, you even managed to get Senator Thul, which is impressive.”

“I honestly have no idea how that particular feat was accomplished,” Alek grinned.

Tascha looked pensive, “You know, one of my literature major friends was telling me that you guys are really all about that retaliation business and… oh, damn… I can’t remember the word he used…”

“Revanchism,” Alek murmured, half to himself, remembering a conversation from a long time ago.

_“Who’re you supposed to be?” a young voice asked. Alek looked around, a bit hesitantly, until his eyes settled on a girl nearby. She was short and skinny, wearing ill-fitting robes and her black hair was held back in a messy braid that looked like it had leaves stuck in it._

_“Uh, I’m Alek? I just got here…”_

_“I can tell,” she rolled her eyes, “I’ve been here for a month and I’ve never seen you before. Who brought you in?”_

_“Um… Master Vandar. I guess I have the Force and stuff.”_

_“It’s overrated,” the girl shrugged, “The Force, I mean. They don’t let you do anything with it, just float rocks and talk a bunch. My_ buir _taught me some fun stuff, though.”_

_“What’s_ buir _?” he asked._

_“It’s Mando’a. Means parent. Mom, dad, other.”_

_Alek froze slightly, pulling away from her, “You’re Mando?”_

_“Yeah?” she frowned, and then sighed, “Master Kae said it might make people nervous, me being clanborn and all. Said I shouldn’t talk about it too much.”_

_“How’d a Jedi find you?”_

_“Another clan killed mine. She found me after.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Alek said, “They killed my family too.”_

_She didn’t look so tough now, tears in her bright green eyes as she looked away, annoyed._

_“Do you, um… do you want a hug?” he asked, nervously._

_“A what?”_

_“What, do Mandos not do hugs?”_

_“We do! I just… I dunno, nobody has offered that since I got off the ship to get here.”_

_“That’s dumb. C’mon.”_

_He patted the bench next to him and she crept over, sitting down, her arms wrapped around herself. He wrapped his arms around her gently._

_“My mom used to say that hugs can make anything a bit better.”_

_It was silent for a while before the girl replied, “She might have been right. Mine always just told me to go shoot the local wildlife for a bit.”_

_“Weird, but to each their own, I suppose. So, what’s your name?”_

_“I’m Revan. I know, it’s dumb. My brothers always teased me about it.”_

_“Why’s it dumb? Just sounds like a name to me.”_

_“It’s not supposed to be a name. They told me_ buir _named me after some fancy word that means taking back what was ours. They thought she was being silly.”_

_“As long as you like it, it doesn’t really matter.”_

_“I guess not. They’re dead now anyway, so their opinion doesn’t count.”_

“Revanchism!” Tascha snapped her fingers, “That’s it! You guys are Revanchists.”

He had an idea, and he grinned at her.

“You mind putting that in writing?”

“Really?” she beamed, “I get to nickname your whole group?”

“I like it. It fits us. I think the others would agree.”

“We’ve got an edition coming out tomorrow, and final edits are due tonight. Someone wrote an article about the Suurja deal that referred to you guys as Crusaders… I’ll talk to him now, tell him to change it.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Tascha.”

She tossed him a business card and rose, “It’s been a real pleasure, Knight Alek. I’ll talk to you soon!”

She wandered off and Alek grinned. Revan would probably kill him for this, but she owed him for all the hell she’d put him through these last few days.

So, when he barged back into the apartment, he marched right up to Revan and Meetra, who sat at the table and planned the speech and said, “By tomorrow night, we’ll be known at the Revanchists.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Meetra burst into laughter as Revan threw a datapad at him. Totally worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> A few headcanon and other notes:
> 
> -Meetra is trans. You can pry this headcanon from my cold dead nonbinary hands.  
> -Revan is nonbinary, pronouns she/her and they/them. Again, you can pry this from my cold dead nonbinary hands.  
> -Dorven, Kaeden, and Kimmy are all OCs, they do tie in to my SWTOR characters but that will be explained later.  
> -I will be including KOTOR comic content in this because that comic does a really good job of discussing the war and a bit of Alek's story.  
> -Canon is to be played fast and loose. It's already kinda up in the air in parts, but I'm just keeping that to heart.  
> -If you are here for a happy ending, click away now. We all know how this ends and it's not pretty.  
> -Side note: please don't request certain ships or anything. I will delete those. Now, if you want to see certain character interactions or cool battle scenes feel free to ask, I'll see what I can do. I love to have ideas. Ideas feed the creative juices.  
> -You'll notice a lot of RWBY songs in here, I can't help it that they have some damn good music. Also, I have like three different playlists for this shit because this will have three different parts to it (a star wars trilogy, imagine that)  
> -I have a fun headcanon where Jedi tend to come in threes, usually a Consular, a Sentinel, and a Guardian. This is based on my SWTOR idiots because my main Outlander Soronae (this has changed from my other stories) is a Consular, Sayanil is a Sentinel, and Shiarrael is a Sentinel class in game but acts more like a Guardian.  
> -Revan is Mandalorian, as one can infer from Chapter 3. That will come up more later. I'll not spoil anything, that spoils the story.  
> -more to be added later...


End file.
